Soldier  Lire 

intbeARMYof 

NORTH§RN  VIRGINIA 


.Johnson  Publishing  Company 
Richmond,  Virginia 


See  page   106. 


DETAILED   MINUTIAE 

OF 

SOLDIER  LIFE 

IN   THE 

ARMY  OF  NORTHERN  VIRGINIA 

1861-1865- 

«        -    <          r      t 

sr 

CARLTON  MCCARTHY 

PBIVATE  SECOND  COMPANY  RICHMOND  HOWITZERS,  CTTTBHAW'S 
BATTALION  ARTILLERY,  SECOND  CORPS,  A.  N.  V. 

WITH  PEN  AND  INK  ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY 

WM.  L.  SHEPPARD,  ESQ., 

LIEUTENANT  SECOND  COMPANY  RICHMOND  HOWITZERS,  A.  N.  V. 


RICHMOND,  VA.: 

B.  F.  JOHNSON  PUBLISHING  CO. 

1899. 


.Copyright,  1882, 

MCCARTHY 


To 

THE  MEMORY   OF  MY   BROTHER, 

EDWARD   STEPHENS   McCARTHY, 

CAPTAIN   FIRST   COMPANY   RICHMOND   HOWITZERS  : 
WHO    FELL   AT    COLD    HARBOR, 

June  4,  1864, 
A  CONFEDERATE  SOLDIER. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 
A    VOICE    FROM    THE    RANKS 1 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE  OUTFIT  MODIFIED 16 

CHAPTER  III. 
ROMANTIC  IDEAS  DISSIPATED 29 

CHAPTER  IV. 
ON  THE  MARCH 41 

CHAPTER   V. 
COOKING  AND  EATING     . 56 

CHAPTER  VI. 
COMFORTS,  CONVENIENCES,  AND  CONSOLATIONS    .        .    73 

CHAPTER   VII. 
FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD      .        .        .        .        '.    94 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
IMPROVISED  INFANTRY  .     116 

CHAPTER  IX. 
"  BKAVE  SURVIVORS"   HOMEWARD  BOUND          .        .     159 

CHAPTER  X, 

SOLDIERS  TRANSFORMED  ,        „        .        .        .        177 

CHAPTER   XL 
CAMP  FIRES  OF  THE  BOYS  IN  GRAY  .  194 

CHAPTER   XII. 
THE  BATTLE  FLAG  .    219 


SOLDIER  LIFE 

IN    THE 

ARMY  OF  NORTHERN   VIRGINIA. 


CHAPTER   I.    ' 
A  VOICE  FROM  THE   RANKS.  —  INTRODUCTORY. 

WE  are  familiar  with  the  names  and  deeds  of 
the  "  generals,"  from  the  commander-in-chief 
down  to  the  almost  innumerable  brigadiers,  and 
we  are  all  more  or  less  ignorant  of  the  habits 
and  characteristics  of  the  individuals  who  com 
posed  the  rank  and  file  of  the  "  grand  armies  " 
of  1861-65. 

As  time  rolls  on,  the  historian,  condensing 
matters,  mentions  "  the  men "  by  brigades, 
divisions,  and  corps.  But  here  let  us  look  at 
the  individual  soldier  separated  from  the  huge 
masses  of  men  composing  the  armies,  and  doing 
his  own  work  and  duty. 

The  fame  of  Lee  and  Jackson,  world- wide, 
and  as  the  years  increase  ever  brighter,  is  but 
condensed  and  personified  admiration  of  the 


2  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

Confederate  soldier,  wrung  from  an  unwill 
ing  world  by  his  matchless  courage,  endurance, 
and  devotion.  Their  fame  is  an  everlasting 
monument  to  the  mighty  deeds  of  the  nameless 
host  who  followed  them  through  so  much  toil 
and  blood  to  glorious  victories. 

The  weak,  as  a  rule,  are  borne  down  by  the 
strong  ;  but  that  does  not  prove  that  the  strong 
are  .also  the  right.  The  weak  suffer  wrong, 
Je<\rn  ilin  bitterness  of  it,  and  finally,  by  resist 
ing  it,  bacome  the  defenders  of  right  and  justice. 
When  the  mighty  nations  of  the  earth  oppress 
the  feeble,  they  nerve  the  arms  and  fire  the 
hearts  of  God's  instruments  for  the  restoration 
of  justice;  and  when  one  section  of  a  country  op 
presses  and  insults  another,  the  result  is  the  per 
vasive  malady,  —  war  !  which  will  work  out  the 
health  of  the  nation,  or  leave  it  a  bloody  corpse. 

The  principles  for  which  the  Confederate  sol 
dier  fought,  and  in  defense  of  which  he  died,  are 
to-day  the  harmony  of  this  country.  So  long 
as  they  were  held  in  abeyance,  the  country  was 
in  turmoil  and  on  the  verge  of  ruin. 

It  is  not  fair  to  demand  a  reason  for  ac 
tions  above  reason.  The  heart  is  greater  than 
the  mind.  No  man  can  exactly  define  the  cause 
for  which  the  Confederate  soldier  fought.  He 
was  above  human  reason  and  above  human 
law,  secure  in  his  own  rectitude  of  purpose, 


A  VOICE   FROM   THE   RANKS.  3 

accountable  to  God  only,  having  assumed  for 
himself  a  "  nationality,"  which  he  was  minded 
to  defend  with  his  life  and  his  property,  and 
thereto  pledged  his  sacred  honor. 

In  the  honesty  and  simplicity  of  his  heart,  the 
Confederate  soldier  had  neglected  his  own  inter 
ests  and  rights,  until  his  accumulated  wrongs 
and  indignities  forced  him  to  one  grand,  pro 
longed  effort  to  free  himself  from  the  pain  of 
them.  He  dared  not  refuse  to  hear  the  call  to 
arms,  so  plain  was  the  duty  and  so  urgent  the 
call.  His  brethren  and  friends  were  answering 
the  bugle-call  and  the  roll  of  the  drum.  To 
stay  was  dishonor  and  shame  ! 

He  would  not  obey  the  dictates  of  tyranny. 
To  disobey  was  death.  He  disobeyed  and  fought 
for  his  life.  The  romance  of  war  charmed  him, 
and  he  hurried  from  the  embrace  of  his  mother 
to  the  embrace  of  death.  His  playmates,  his 
friends,  and  his  associates  were  gone  ;  he  was 
lonesome,  and  he  sought  a  reunion  "  in  camp." 
He  would  not  receive  as  gospel  the  dogmas  of 
fanatics,  and  so  he  became  a  "rebel."  Being  a 
rebel,  he  must  be  punished.  Being  punished, 
he  resisted.  Resisting,  he  died. 

The  Confederate  soldier  opposed  immense 
odds.  In  the  "  seven  days  battles "  around 
Richmond,  80,000  drove  to  the  James  River 
115,000  of  the  enemy.  At  Fredericksburg,  in 


4  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

1862,  78,000  of  them  routed  110,000  Federal 
troops.  At  Chancellorsville,  in  1863,  57,000 
under  Lee  and  Jackson  whipped,  and  but  for 
the  death  of  Jackson  would  have  annihilated, 
an  army  of  132,000  men,  —  more  than  double 
their  own  number.  At  Gettysburg,  62,000  of 
them  assailed  the  heights  maimed  by  112,000. 
At  the  Wilderness,  in  1864,  63,000  met  and 
successfully  resisted  141,000  of  the  enemy.  At 
Appomattox,  in  April,  1865,  8,000  of  them  sur 
rendered  to  the  host  commanded  by  Grant.  The 
United  States  government,  at  the  end  of  the 
war,  mustered  out  of  service  1,000,000  of  men, 
and  had  in  the  field,  from  first  to  last,  2,600,000. 
If  the  Confederate  soldier  had  then  had  only 
this  disparity  of  numbers  to  contend  with,  he 
would  have  driven  every  invader  from  the  soil 
of  Virginia. 

But  the  Confederate  soldier  fought,  in  addi 
tion  to  these  odds,  the  facilities  for  the  trans 
portation  and  concentration  of  troops  and  sup 
plies  afforded  by  the  network  of  railways  in  the 
country  north  of  him,  all  of  which  were  subject 
to  the  control  of  the  government,  and  backed 
by  a  treasury  which  was  turning  out  money  by 
the  ton,  one  dollar  of  which  was  equal  to  sixty 
Confederate  dollars. 

It  should  be  remembered  also  that,  while  the 
South  was  restricted  to  its  own  territory  for 


A  VOICE   FROM   THE   RANKS.  5 

supplies,  and  its  own  people  for  men,  the  North 
drew  on  the  world  for  material,  and  on  every 
nation  of  the  earth  for  men. 

The  arms  and  ammunition  of  the  Federal  sol 
diers  were  abundant  and  good,  —  so  abundant 
and  so  good  that  they  supplied  loth  armies,  and 
were  greatly  preferred  by  Confederate  officers. 
The  equipment  of  the  Federal  armies  was  well- 
nigh  perfect.  The  facilities  for  manufacture 
were  simply  unlimited,  and  the  nation  thought 
no  expenditure  of  treasure  too  great,  if  only  the 
country,  the  Union!  could  be  saved.  The  fac 
tory  and  the  foundry  chimneys  made  a  pillar  of 
smoke  by  day  and  of  fire  by  night.  The  latest 
improvements  were  hurried  to  the  front,  and 
adopted  by  both  armies  almost  simultaneously ; 
for  hardly  had  the  Federal  bought,  when  the 
Confederate  captured,  and  used,  the  very  latest. 

Commissary  stores  were  piled  up  all  over 
Virginia,  for  the  use  of  the  invading  armies. 
They  had  more  than  they  could  protect,  and 
their  loss  was  gain  to  the  hungry  defenders  of 
the  soil. 

The  Confederate  soldier  fought  a  host  of  ills 
occasioned  by  the  deprivation  of  chloroform 
and  morphia,  which  were  excluded  from  the 
Confederacy,  by  the  blockade,  as  contraband  of 
war.  The  man  who  has  submitted  to  amputa 
tion  without  chloroform,  or  tossed  on  a  couch  of 


6  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

agony  for  a  night  and  a  day  without  sleep  for 
the  want  of  a  dose  of  morphia,  may  possibly  be 
able  to  estimate  the  advantages  which  resulted 
from  the  possession  by  the  Federal  surgeons  of 
an  unlimited  supply  of  these. 

The  Confederate  soldier  fought  bounties  and 
regular  monthly  pay  ;  the  "  Stars  and  Stripes," 
the  "Star  Spangled  Banner,"  "  Hail  Colum 
bia,"  "  Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp,"  "  John  Brown's 
Body,"  "Rally  round  the  Flag,"  and  all  the 
fury  and  fanaticism  which  skilled  minds  could 
create,  —  opposing  this  grand  array  with  the 
modest  and  homely  refrain  of  "  Dixie,"  sup 
ported  by  a  mild  solution  of  "Maryland,  My 
Maryland."  He  fought  good  wagons,  fat  horses, 
and  tons  .  of  quartermaster's  stores;  pontoon 
trains,  of  splendid  material  and  construction,  by 
the  mile  ;  gunboats,  wooden  and  iron,  and  men- 
of-war  ;  illustrated  papers,  to  cheer  the  "  Boys 
in  Blue  "  with  sketches  of  the  glorious  deeds 
they  did  not  do  ;  Bibles  by  the  car  load,  and 
tracts  by  the  million,  —  the  first  to  prepare 
them  for  death,  and  the  second  to  urge  upon 
them  the  duty  of  dying. 

The  Confederate  soldier  fought  the  "  Sani 
tary  Commission,"  whose  members,  armed  with 
every  facility  and  convenience,  quickly  carried 
the  sick  and  wounded  of  the  Federal  army  to 
comfortable  quarters,  removed  the  bloody  gar- 


A  VOICE   FROM   THE   RANKS.  7 

ments,  laid  the  sufferer  on  a  clean  and  dry 
couch,  clothed  him  in  clean  things,  and  fed  him 
on  the  best  the  world  could  afford  and  money 
buy. 

He  fought  the  well-built,  thoroughly  equipped 
ambulances,  the  countless  surgeons,  nurses,  and 
hospital  stewards,  and  the  best  surgical  appli 
ances  known  to  the  medical  world.  He  fought 
the  commerce  of  the  United  States  and  all  the 
facilities  for  war  which  Europe  could  supply, 
while  his  own  ports  were  closed  to  all  the  world. 
He  fought  the  trained  army  officers  and  the  reg 
ular  troops  of  the  United  States  Army,  assisted 
by  splendid  native  volunteer  soldiers,  besides 
swarms  of  hirelings, — white,  black,  olive,  and 
brown, — gathered  from  every  quarter  of  the 
earth  by  steamer  loads.  He  laid  down  life  for 
life  with  this  hireling  host,  who  died  for  pay, 
mourned  by  no  one,  missed  by  no  one,  loved  by 
no  one;  who  were  better  fed  and  clothed,  fat 
ter,  happier,  and  more  contented  in  the  army 
than  ever  they  were  at  home,  and  whose  graves 
strew  the  earth  in  lonesome  places,  where  none 
go  to  weep.  When  one  of  these  fell,  two  could 
be  bought  to  fill  the  gap.  The  Confederate 
soldier  killed  these  without  compunction,  and 
their  comrades  buried  them  without  a  tear. 

The  Confederate  soldier  fought  the  cries  of 


8  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

distress  which  came  from  his  home, — tales  of 
woe,  want,  insult,  and  robbery.  He  fought  men 
who  knew  that  their  homes  (when  they  had 
any)  were  safe,  their  wives  and  children,  their 
parents  and  sisters,  sheltered,  and  their  business 
affairs  more  than^usually  prosperous  ;  who  could 
draw  sight  drafts,  have  them  honored,  and  make 
the  camp  table  as  bountiful  and  luxurious  as 
that  of  a  New  York  hotel.  He  fought  a  gov 
ernment  founded  by  the  genius  of  his  fathers, 
which  derived  its  strength  from  principles  they 
formulated,  and  which  persuaded  its  soldiers 
that  they  Avere  the  champions  of  the  constitu 
tional  liberty  which  they  were  marching  to  in 
vade,  and  eventually  to  destroy. 

The  relative  strength  of  armies  becomes  a 
matter  of  secondary  importance  when  these 
facts  are  considered.  The  disparity  of  numbers 
only,  would  never  have  produced  the  result 
which  the  combination  of  these  various  forces 
did,  —  the  surrender  of  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia. 

The  Confederate  soldier  was  purely  patriotic. 
He  foresaw  clearly,  and  deliberately  chose,  the 
trials  which  he  endured.  He  was  an  individual 
who  could  not  become  the  indefinite  portion  of 
a  mass,  but  fought  for  himself,  on  his  own  ac 
count.  He  was  a  self-sacrificing  hero,  but  did 
not  claim  that  distinction  or  any  merit,  feeling 


A  VOICE   FROM    THE   RANKS.  9 

only  that  he  was  in  the  line  of  duty  to  self, 
country,  and  God.  He  fought  for  a  principle, 
and  needed  neither  driving  nor  urging,  but  wa& 
eager  and  determined  to  fight.  He  was  not  a 
politic  man,  but  a  man  under  fervent  feeling, 
forgetful  of  the  possibilities  and  calamities  of 
war,  pressing  his  claims  to  the  rights  of  human- 
ity. 

The  Confederate  soldier  was  a  monomaniac 
for  four  years.  His  mania  was,  the  independ 
ence  of  the  Confederate  States  of  America,  se 
cured  by  force  of  arms. 

The  Confederate  soldier  was  a  venerable  old 
man,  a  youth,  a  child,  a  preacher,  a  farmer, 
merchant,  student,  statesman,  orator,  father, 
brother,  husband,  son,  —  the  wonder  of  the 
world,  the  terror  of  his  foes  ! 

If  the  peace  of  this  country  can  be  preserved 
only  by  forgetting  the  Confederate  soldier's 
deeds  and  his  claims  upon  the  South,  the  bless 
ing  is  too  dearly  bought.  We  have  sworn  to 
be  grateful  to  him.  Dying,  his  head  pillowed 
on  the  bosom  of  his  mother,  Virginia,  he  heard 
that  his  name  would  be  honored. 

When  we  fill  up,  hurriedly,  the  bloody  chasm 
opened  by  war,  we  should  be  careful  that  we  do 
not  bury  therein  many  noble  deeds,  some  ten 
der  memories,  some  grand  examples,  and  some 
hearty  promises  washed  with  tears. 


10  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

The  following  letter,  written  by  an  aged  fa 
ther  to  his  only  son,  then  a  mere  boy,  who  had 
volunteered  as  an  infantry  soldier  and  was  al 
ready  in  the  field,  is  an  appropriate  conclusion 
to  this  chapter ;  showing  admirably  welt  the 
kind  of  inspiration  which  went  from  Southern 
homes  to  Soitthern  soldiers  :  — 

AT  HOME,  July  17,  1861. 

MY  DEAR  SON,  —  It  may  have  seemed  strange  to 
you  that  a  professing  Christian  father  so  freely  gave 
you,  a  Christian  son,  to  enlist  in  the  volunteer  ser 
vice.  My  reason  was  that  I  regarded  this  as  a  purely 
defensive  ivar.  Not  only  did  the  Southern  Confed 
eracy  propose  to  adjust  the  pending  difficulties  by 
peaceful  and  equitable  negotiations,  but  Virginia  used 
again  and  again  the  most  earnest  and  noble  efforts  to 
prevent  a  resort  to  the  sword.  These  overtures  hav 
ing  been  proudly  spurned,  and  our  beloved  South 
having  been  threatened  with  invasion  and  subjugation, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  nothing  was  left  us  but  stern 
resistance,  or  abject  submission,  to  unconstitutional 
power.  A  brave  and  generous  people  could  not  for 
a  moment  hesitate  between  such  alternatives.  A  war 
in  defense  of  our  homes  and  firesides,  of  our  wives 
and  children,  of  all  that  makes  life  worth  possess 
ing,  is  the  result.  While  I  most  deeply  deplored  the 
necessity  for  the  sacrifice,  I  could  not  but  rejoice  that 
I  had  a  son  to  offer  to  the  service  of  the  country,  and 
if  I  had  a  dozen,  /  would  most  freely  give  them  all. 
As  you  are  now  cheerfully  enduring  the  hardships  of 


A   VOICE    FROM    THE   RANKS.  11 

the  camp,  I  know  you  will  listen  to  a  father's  sugges 
tions  touching  the  duties  of  your  new  mode  of  life. 

1.  Take  special  care  of   your  health.     More  sol 
diers  die  of  disease  than  in  battle.     A  thin  piece  of 
damp  sponge  in  the  crown  of  your  hat  during  expo 
sure  to  the  hot  sun,  the  use  of    thick    shoes  and  a 
water-proof   coat  in  rainy   weather,  the    practice  of 
drinking    cold    water  when    you  are  very  warm    as 
slowly  as  you  sip  hot  tea,  the  thorough  mastication  of 
your  food,  the    avoiding   of   damp    tents    and  damp 
grounds  during  sleep,  and  frequent  ablutions  of  your 
person  are  all  the  hints  I  can  give  you  on  this  point. 
Should  you  need  anything  that  I  can  supply,  let  me 
hear  from  you.     I  will  do  what  I  can  to  make  you 
comfortable.     After  all,  you  must  learn    to    endure 
hardness  as  a  good  soldier.     Having    never  slept  a 
single  night  in  your  whole  life  except  in  a  pleasant 
bed,  and  never  known  a  scarcity  of  good  food,  you 
doubtless  find  the  ways  of  the  camp  rough  ;  but  never 
mind.     The  war,  I  trust,  will  soon  be  over,  and  then 
the  remembrance  of  your  hardships  will  sweeten  the 
joy  of  peace. 

2.  The  rules  of  war  require  prompt  and  unques 
tioning   obedience.     You  may  sometimes   think    the 
command  arbitrary  and  the   officer   supercilious,  but 
it  is  yours  to  obey.     An  undisciplined  army  is  a  curse 
to  its  friends  and  a  derision  to  its  foes.     Give  your 
whole  influence,  therefore,  to  the  maintenance  of  law 
ful  authority  and  of  strict  order.     Let  your  superiors 
feel  assured  that  whatever  they  entrust  to  you  will  be 
faithfully  done.     Composed  of  such  soldiers,  and  led 


12  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

by  skillful  and  brave  commanders,  our  army,  by  the 
blessing  of  God,  will  never  be  defeated.  It  is,  more 
over,  engaged  in  a  holy  cause,  and  must  triumph. 

3.  Try     to    maintain    your    Christian    profession 
among    your    comrades.     I    need    not   caution    you 
against    strong    drink    as    useless    and    hurtful,    nor 
against  profanity,  so  common  among  soldiers.     Both 
these  practices  you  abhor.    Aim  to  take  at  once  a  de 
cided  stand   for  God.     If   practicable  have    prayers 
regularly  in    your  tent,  or  unite  with    your  fellow- 
disciples    in    prayer  meetings  in   the   camp.     Should 
preaching   be  accessible,  always  be  a    hearer.     Let 
the  world  know  that  you  are  a  Christian.     Read  a 
chapter  fn  the  New  Testament,  which  your  mother 
gave  you,  every  morning  and  evening,  when  you  can, 
and  engage    in  secret    prayer  to   God    for  his    holy 
Spirit  to  guide  and  sustain  you.    I  would  rather  hear 
of  your  death  than  of  the  shipwreck  of  your  faith  and 
good  conscience. 

4.  As  you  will  come  into  habitual  contact  with  men 
of  every  grade,  make  special  associates  only  of  those 
whose  influence  on  your  character  is  felt  to  be  good. 
Some  men  love  to  tell  extravagant  stories,  to  indulge 
in  vulgar  wit,  to  exult  in  a  swaggering  carriage,  to 
pride  themselves  on  their  coarse  manners,  to  boast  of 
their  heroism,  and  to  give  utterance  to  feelings  of  re 
venge  against  the  enemy.     All  this  is    injurious   to 
young  and  impressible  minds.     If  you  admire  such 
things,  you  will  insensibly  imitate  them,  and  imitation 
will  work  gradual  but  certain  detriment  to  your  char 
acter.     Other  men  are  refined  without  beinsr  affected. 


A    VOICE    FROM    THE   RANKS.  13 

They  can  relax  into  occasional  pleasantries  without 
violating  modesty.  They  can  be  loyal  to  their  gov 
ernment  without  indulging  private  hatred  against  her 
foes.  They  can  be  cool  and  brave  in  battle,  and  not 
be  braggarts  in  the  absence  of  danger.  Above  all, 
they  can  be  humble,  spiritual,  and  active  Christians, 
and  yet  mingle  in  the  stirring  and  perilous  duties  of 
soldier-life.  Let  these  be  your  companions  and  mod 
els.  You  will  thus  return  from  the  dangers  of  camp 
without  a  blemish  on  your  name. 

5.  Should  it  be  your  lot  to  enter  into  an  engage 
ment  with  the  enemy,  lift  up  your  heart  in  secret 
ejaculations  to  the  ever-present  and  good  Being,  that 
He  will  protect  you  from  sudden  death,  or  if  you  fall, 
that  He  will  receive  your  departing  spirit,  cleansed 
in  the  blood  of  Jesus,  into  His  kingdom.  It  is  better 
to  trust  in  the  Lord  than  to  put  confidence  in  princes. 
Commit  your  eternal  interests,  therefore,  to  the  keep 
ing  of  the  Almighty  Saviour.  You  should  not,  even 
in  the  hour  of  deadly  conflict,  cherish  personal  rage 
against  the  enemy,  any  more  than  an  officer  of  the 
law  hates  the  victim  of  the  law.  How  often  does 
a  victorious  army  tenderly  care  for  the  dead  and 
wounded  of  the  vanquished.  War  is  a  tremendous 
scourge  which  Providence  sometimes  uses  to  chas 
tise  proud  and  wicked  nations.  Both  parties  must 
suffer,  even  though  one  may  get  the  advantage. 
There  is  no  occasion  then  for  adding  to  the  intrinsic 
evils  of  the  system  the  odious  feature  of  animosity  to 
individuals.  In  the  ranks  of  the  foe  are  thousands  of 
plain  men  who  do  not  understand  the  principles  for 


14  SOLDiKR   LIFE. 

which  we  are  struggling.  They  are  deceived  by  art 
ful  demagogues  into  a  posture  of  hostility  to  those 
whom,  knowing,  they  would  love.  It  is  against  such 
men  that  you  may  perhaps  be  arrayed,  and  the  laws 
of  war  do  not  forbid  you  to  pity  them  even  in  the  act 
of  destroying  them.  It  is  the  more  important  that 
we  should  exhibit  a  proper  temper  in  this  unfortunate 
contest,  because  many  professed  Christians  and  min 
isters  of  the  gospel  at  the  North  are  breathing  out, 
in  their  very  prayers  and  sermons,  threatenings  and 
slaughter  against  us.  Oh  !  how  painful  that  a  gray- 
headed  pastor  should  publicly  exclaim,  "  I  would  hang 
them  as  quick  as  I  would  shoot  a  mad  dog  !  " 

6.  Providence  has  placed  you  in  the  midst  of 
thoughtless  and  un pardoned  men.  What  a  beautiful 
thing  it  would  be  if  you  could  win  some  of  them  to 
the  Saviour.  Will  you  not  try  ?  You  will  have 
many  opportunities  of  saying  a  word  in  season.  The 
sick  you  may  comfort,  the  wavering  you  may  confirm, 
the  backslidden  you  may  reclaim,  the  weary  and  heavy 
laden  you  may  point  to  Jesus  for  rest  to  the  soul.  It 
is  not  presumptuous  for  a  young  man  kindly  and 
meekly  to  commend  the  gospel  to  his  brother  soldiers. 
The  hardest  of  them  will  not  repel  a  gentle  approach, 
made  in  private.  And  many  of  them  would  doubtless 
be  glad  to  have  the  subject  introduced  to  them.  They 
desire  to  hear  of  Jesus,  but  they  lack  courage  to  in 
quire  of  his  people.  An  unusually  large  proportion 
of  pious  men  have  entered  the  army,  and  I  trust  they 
will  give  a  new  complexion  to  military  life.  Let 
them  search  out  each  other,  arid  establish  a  fraternity 


A   VOICE    FROM    THE   RANKS.  15 

among  all  the  worshipers  of  God.  To  interchange 
religious  views  and  administer  brotherly  counsel  will 
be  mutually  edifying.  "  He  that  watereth  shall  be 
watered  also  himself." 

Arid  now,  as  a  soldier  has  but  little  leisure,  I  will 
not  occupy  you  longer.  Be  assured  that  every  morn 
ing  and  evening  we  remember  you,  at  the  family 
altar,  to  our  Father  in  Heaven.  We  pray  for  "a 
speedy,  just,  and  honorable  peace,"  and  for  the  safe 
return  of  all  the  volunteers  to  their  loved  homes. 
All  the  children  speak  often  of  "  brother,"  and  hear 
your  letters  read  with  intense  interest.  That  God 
Almighty  may  be  your  shield  and  your  exceeding 
great  reward,  is  the  constant  prayer  of  your  loving 
father. 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE   OUTFIT   MODIFIED. 

WITH  the  men  who  composed  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  will  die  the  memory  of  those 
little  things  which  made  the  Confederate  sol 
dier  peculiarly  what  he  was. 

The  historian  who  essays  to  write  the  "  grand 
movements"  will  hardly  stop  to  tell  how  the 
hungry  private  fried  his  bacon,  baked  his  biscuit, 
and  smoked  his  pipe  ;  how  he  was  changed  from 
time  to  time  by  the  necessities  of  the  service, 
until  the  gentleman,  the  student,  the  merchant, 
the  mechanic,  and  the  farmer  were  merged  into 
a  perfect,  all-enduring,  never-tiring  and  invinci 
ble  soldier.  To  preserve  these  little  details,  fa 
miliar  to  all  soldiers,  and  by  them  not  thought 
worthy  of  mention  to  others,  because  of  their 
familiarity,  but  still  dear  to  them  and  always 
the  substance  of  their  "  war  talks,"  is  the  object 
of  this  book. 

The  volunteer  of  1861  made  extensive  prepa 
rations  for  the  field.  Boots,  he  thought,  were 
an  absolute  necessity,  and  the  heavier  the  soles 
and  longer  the  tops  the  better.  His  pants  were 


THE  OUTFIT  OF  1861. 


THE   OUTFIT    MODIFIED.  17 

stuffed  inside  the  tops  of  his  boots,  of  course.  A 
double-breasted  coat,  heavily  wadded,  with  two 
rows  of  big  brass  buttons  and  a  long  skirt,  was 
considered  comfortable.  A  small  stiff  cap,  with 
a  narrow  brim,  took  the  place  of  the  comfortable 
u  felt,"  or  the  shining  and  towering  tile  worn  in 
civil  life. 

Then  over  all  was  a  huge  overcoat,  long  and 
heavy,  with  a  cape  reaching  nearly  to  the  waist. 
On  his  back  he  strapped  a  knapsack  containing 
a  full  stock  of  underwear,  soap,  towels,  comb, 
brush,  looking-glass,  tooth-brush,  paper  and  en 
velopes,  pens,  ink,  pencils,  blacking,  photo 
graphs,  smoking  and  chewing  tobacco,  pipes, 
twine  string,  and  cotton  strips  for  wounds  and 
other  emergencies,  needles  and  thread,  buttons, 
knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  and  many  other  things 
as  each  man's  idea  of  what  he  was  to  encounter 
varied.  On  the  outside  of  the  knapsack,  solidly 
folded,  were  two  great  blankets  and  a  rubber  or 
oil-cloth.  This  knapsack,  etc.,  weighed  from 
fifteen  to  twenty-five  pounds,  sometimes  even 
more.  All  seemed  to  think  it  was  impossible  to 
have  on  too  many  or  too  heavy  clothes,  or  to 
have  too  many  conveniences,  and  each  had  an 
idea  that  to  be  a  good  soldier  he  must  be  pro 
vided  against  every  possible  emergency. 

In  addition  to  the  knapsack,  each  man  had 
a  haversack,  more  or  less  costly,  some  of  cloth 


18  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

and  some  of  fine  morocco,  and  stored  with  pro 
visions  always,  as  though  he  expected  any  mo 
ment  to  receive  orders  to  march  across  the  Great 
Desert,  and  supply  his  own  wants  on  the  way. 
A  canteen  was  considered  indispensable,  and 
at  the  outset  it  was  thought  prudent  to  keep  it 
full  of  water.  Many,  expecting  terrific  hand- 
to-hand  encounters,  carried  revolvers,  and  even 
bowie-knives.  Merino  shirts  (and  flannel)  were 
thought  to  be  the  right  thing,  but  experience 
demonstrated  the  contrary.  Gloves  were  also 
thought  to  be  very  necessary  and  good  things 
to  have  in  winter  time,  the  favorite  style  being 
buck  gauntlets  with  long  cuffs. 

In  addition  to  each  man's  private  luggage, 
each  mess,  generally  composed  of  from  five  to 
ten  men,  drawn  together  by  similar  tastes  and 
associations,  had  its  outfit,  consisting  of  a  large 
camp  chest  containing  skillet,  frying  pan,  cof 
fee  boiler,  bucket  for  lard,  coffee  box,  salt  box, 
sugar  box,  meal  box,  flour  box,  knives,  forks, 
spoons,  plates,  cups,  etc.,  etc.  These  chests 
were  so  large  that  eight  or  ten  of  them  filled  up 
an  army  wagon,  and  were  so  heavy  that  two 
strong  men  had  all  they  could  do  to  get  one  of 
them  into  the  wagon.  In  addition  to  the  chest 
each  mess  owned  an  axe,  water  bucket,  and 
bread  tray.  Then  the  tents  of  each  company, 
and  little  sheet-iron  stoves,  and  stove  pipe,  and 


THE    OUTFIT    MODIFIED.  19 

the  trunks  and  valises  of  the  company  officers, 
made  an  immense  pile  of  stuff,  so  that  each 
company  had  a  small  wagon  train  of  its  own. 

All  thought  money  to  be  absolutely  necessary, 
and  for  awhile  rations  were  disdained  and  tho 
mess  supplied  with  the  best  that  could  be  bought 
with  the  mess  fund.  Quite  a  large  number  had 
a  "  boy  "  along  to  do  the  cooking  and  washing. 
Think  of  it !  a  Confederate  soldier  with  a  body 
servant  all  his  own,  to  bring  him  a  drink  of 
water,  black  his  boots,  dust  his  clothes,  cook 
his  corn  bread  and  bacon,  and  put  wood  on  his 
fire.  Never  was  there  fonder  admiration  than 
these  darkies  displayed  for  their  masters.  Their 
chief  delight  and  glory  was  to  praise  the  cour 
age  and  good  looks  of  "  Mahse  Tom,"  and 

o  o 

prophesy  great  things  about  his  future.  Many 
a  ringing  laugh  and  shout  of  fun  originated  in 
the  queer  remarks,  shining  countenance,  and 
glistening  teeth  of  this  now  forever  departed 
character. 

It  is  amusing  to  think  of  the  follies  of  the 
early  part  of  the  war,  as  illustrated  by  the  out 
fits  of  the  volunteers.  They  were  so  heavily 
clad,  and  so  burdened  with  all  manner  of  things, 
that  a  march  was  torture,  and  the  wagon  trains 
were  so  immense  in  proportion  to  the  number 
of  troops,  that  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  guard  them  in  an  enemy's  country.  Subor- 


20  SOLDIER    Lli-K. 

dinate  officers  thought  themselves  entitled  to 
transportation  for  trunks,  mattresses,  and  fold 
ing  bedsteads,  and  the  privates  were  as  ridicu 
lous  in  their  demands. 

Thus  much  by  way  of  introduction.  The 
change  came  rapidly,  and  stayed  not  until  the 
transformation  was  complete.  Nor  was  this 
change  attributable  alone  to  the  orders  of  the 
general  officers.  The  men  soon  learned  the 
inconvenience  and  danger  of  so  much  luggage, 
and,  as  they  became  more  experienced,  they  vied 
with  each  other  in  reducing  themselves  to  light- 
marching  trim. 

Experience  soon  demonstrated  that  boots 
were  not  agreeable  on  a  long  march.  They 
were  heavy  and  irksome,  and  when  the  heels 
were  worn  a  little  one-sided,  the  wearer  would 
find  his  ankle  twisted  nearly  out  of  joint  by 
every  unevenness  of  the  road.  When  thor 
oughly  wet,  it  was  a  laborious  undertaking  to 
get  them  off,  and  worse  to  get  them  on  in  time 
to  answer  the  morning  roll-call.  And  so,  good, 
strong  brogues  or  brogans,  with  broad  bottoms 
and  big,  flat  heels,  succeeded  the  boots,  and 
were  found  much  more  comfortable  and  agree 
able,  easier  put  on  and  off,  and  altogether  the 
more  sensible. 

A  short-waisted  and  single-breasted  jacket 
usurped  the  place  of  the  long-tailed  coat,  and 


THE   OUTFIT    MODIFIED.  21 

became  universal.  The  enemy  noticed  this  pe 
culiarity,  and  called  the  Confederates  gray  jack 
ets,  which  name  was  immediately  transferred 
to  those  lively  creatures  which  were  the  con 
stant  admirers  and  inseparable  companions  of 
the  Boys  in  Gray  and  in  Blue. 

Caps  were  destined  to  hold  out  longer  than 
some  other  uncomfortable  things,  but  they 
finally  yielded  to  the  demands  of  comfort  and 
common  sense,  and  a  good  soft  felt  hat  was 
worn  instead.  A  man  who  has  never  been  a 
soldier  does  not  know,  nor  indeed  can  know, 
the  amount  of  comfort  there  is  in  a  good  soft 
hat  in  camp,  and  how  utterly  useless  is  a  "  sol 
dier  hat  "  as  they  are  generally  made.  Why 
the  Prussians,  with  all  their  experience,  wear 
their  heavy,  unyielding  helmets,  and  the  French 
their  little  caps,  is  a  mystery  to  a  Confederate 
who  has  enjoyed  the  comfort  of  an  old  slouch. 

Overcoats  an  inexperienced  man  would  think 
an  absolute  necessity  for  men  exposed  to  the 
rigors  of  a  northern  Virginia  winter,  but  they 
grew  scarcer  and  scarcer ;  they  were  found  to 
be  a  great  inconvenience.  The  men  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  trouble  of  carrying  them 
on  hot  days  outweighed  the  comfort  of  having 
them  when  the  cold  day  arrived.  Besides  they 
found  that  life  in  the  open  air  hardened  them  to 
such  an  extent  that  changes  in  the  temperature 


22  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

were  not  felt  to  any  degree.  Some  clung  to 
their  overcoats  to  the  last,  but  the  majority  got 
tired  lugging  them  around,  and  either  discarded 
them  altogether,  or  trusted  to  capturing  one 
about  the  time  it  would  be  needed.  Nearly 
every  overcoat  in  the  army  in  the  latter  years 
was  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  captured  from  his  boys. 

The  knapsack  vanished  early  in  the  struggle. 
It  was  inconvenient  to  u  change  "  the  underwear 
too  often,  and  the  disposition  not  to  change 
grew,  as  the  knapsack  was  found  to  gall  the 
back  and  shoulders,  and  weary  the  man  before 
half  the  march  was  accomplished.  The  better 
way  was  to  dress  out  and  out,  and  wear  that 
outfit  until  the  enemy's  knapsacks,  or  the  folks 
at  home  supplied  a  change.  Certainly  it  did 
not  pay  to  carry  around  clean  clothes  while 
waiting  for  the  time  to  use  them. 

Very  little  washing  was  done,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Clothes  once  given  up  were  parted 
with  forever.  There  were  good  reasons  for  this  : 
cold  water  would  not  cleanse  them  or  destroy 
the  vermin,  and  hot  water  was  not  always  to  be 
had.  One  blanket  to  each  man  was  found  to 
be  as  much  as  could  be  carried,  and  amply  suf 
ficient  for  the  severest  weather.  This  was  car 
ried  generally  by  rolling  it  lengthwise,  with  the 
rubber  cloth  outside,  tying  the  ends  of  the  roll 
together,  and  throwing  the  loop  thus  made  over 


THE   OUTFIT    MODIFIED.  23 

the  left  shoulder  with  the  ends  fastened  to 
gether  hanging  under  the  right  arm. 

The  haversack  held  its  own  to  the  last,  and 
was  found  practical  and  useful.  It  very  sel 
dom,  however,  contained  rations,  but  was  used 
to  carry  all  the  articles  generally  carried  in 
the  knapsack  ;  of  course  the  stock  was  small. 
Somehow  or  other,  many  men  managed  to  do 
without  the  haversack,  and  carried  absolutely 
nothing  but  what  they  wore  and  had  in  their 
pockets. 

The  infantry  threw  away  their  heavy  cap 
boxes  and  cartridge  boxes,  and  carried  their 
caps  and  cartridges  in  their  pockets.  Canteens 
were  very  useful  at  times,  but  they  were  as  a 
general  thing  discarded.  They  were  not  much 
used  to  carry  water,  but  were  found  useful  when 
the  men  were  driven  to  the.  necessity  of  forag 
ing,  for  conveying  buttermilk,  cider,  sorghum, 
etc.,  to  camp.  A  good  strong  tin  cup  was  found 
better  than  a  canteen,  as  it  was  easier  to  fill  at  a 
well  or  spring,  and  was  serviceable  as  a  boiler 
for  making  coffee  when  the  column  halted  for 
the  night. 

Revolvers  were  found  to  be  about  as  useless 
and  heavy  lumber  as  a  private  soldier  could 
carry,  and  early  in  the  war  were  sent  home  to 
be  used  by  the  women  and  children  in  protect 
ing  themselves  from  insult  and  violence  at  the 
3 


24  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

hands  of  the  ruffians  who  prowled  about  the 
country  shirking  duty. 

Strong  cotton  was  adopted  in  place  of  flan 
nel  and  merino,  for  two  reasons :  first,  because 
easier  to  wash ;  and  second,  because  the  vermin 
did  not  propagate  so  rapidly  in  cotton  as  in 
wool.  Common  white  cotton  shirts  and  draw 
ers  proved  the  best  that  could  be  used  by  the 
private  soldier. 

Gloves  to  any  but  a  mounted  man  were  found 
useless,  worse  than  useless.  With  the  gloves 
on,  it  was  impossible  to  handle  an  axe,  buckle 
harness,  load  a  musket,  or  handle  a  rammer  at 
the  piece.  Wearing  them  was  found  to  be  sim 
ply  a  habit,  and  so,  on  the  principle  that  the  less 
luggage  the  less  labor,  they  were  discarded. 

The  camp-chest  soon  vanished.  The  briga 
diers  and  major-generals,  even,  found  them  too 
troublesome,  and  soon  they  were  left  entirely  to 
the  quartermasters  and  commissaries.  One 
skillet  and  a  couple  of  frying  pans,  a  bag  for 
flour  or  meal,  another  bag  for  salt,  sugar,  and 
coffee,  divided  by  a  knot  tied  between,  served 
the  purpose  as  well.  The  skillet  passed  from 
mess  to  mess.  Eacli  mess  generally  owned  a 
frying  pan,  but  otten  one  served  a  company. 
The  oil-cloth  was  found  to  be  as  good  as  the 
wooden  tray  for  making  up  the  dough.  The 
water  bucket  held  its  own  to  the  last ! 


THE   OUTFIT   MODIFIED.  25 

Tents  were  rarely  seen.  All  the  poetry  about 
the  "  tented  field  "  died.  Two  men  slept  to 
gether,  each  having  a  blanket  and  an  oil-cloth  ; 
one  oil-cloth  went  next  to  the  ground.  The  two 


laid  on  this,  covered  themselves  with  two  blan 
kets,  protected  from  the  rain  with  the  second 
oil-cloth  on  top,  and  slept  very  comfortably 
through  rain,  snow  or  hail,  as  it  might  be. 

Very  little  money  was  seen  in  camp.  The 
men  did  not  expect,  did  not  care  for,  or  often 
get  any  pay,  and  they  were  not  willing  to  de 
prive  the  old  folks  at  home  of  their  little  sup 
ply,  so  they  learned  to  do  without  any  money. 

When  rations  got  short  and  were  getting 
shorter,  it  became  necessary  to  dismiss  the  dar 
key  servants.  Some,  however,  became  company 
servants,  instead  of  private  institutions,  and  held 


26  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

out  faithfully  to  the  end,  cooking  the  rations 
away  in  the  rear,  and  at  the  risk  of  life  carry 
ing  them  to  the  line  of  battle  to  their  "  young 
mahsters." 

Reduced  to  the  minimum,  the  private  soldier 
consisted  of  one  man,  one  hat,  one  jacket,  one 
shirt,  one  pair  of  pants,  one  pair  of  drawers,  one 
pair  of  shoes,  and  one  pair  of  socks.  His  baggage 


was  one  blanket,  one  rubber  blanket,  and  one 
haversack.  The  haversack  generally  contained 
smoking  tobacco  and  a  pipe,  and  a  small  piece 
of  soap,  with  temporary  additions  of  apples, 
persimmons,  blackberries,  and  such  other  com 
modities  as  he  could  pick  up  on  the  march. 

The  company  property  consisted  of  two  or 
three  skillets  and  frying  pans,  which  were  some 
times  carried  in  the  wagon,  but  oftener  in  the 
hands  of  the  soldiers.  The  infantry-men  gen 
erally  preferred  to  stick  the  handle  of  the  frying 
pan  in  the  barrel  of  a  musket,  and  so  carry  it. 

The  wagon  trains  were  devoted  entirely  to 


THE   OUTFIT    MODIFIED.  27 

the  transportation  of  ammunition  and  commis 
sary  and  quartermaster's  stores,  which  had  not 
been  issued.  Rations  which  had  become  company 
property,  and  the  baggage  of  the  men,  when 
they  had  any,  was  carried  by  the  men  them 
selves.  If,  as  was  sometimes  the  case,  three 
days'  rations  were  issued  at  one  time  and  the 
troops  ordered  to  cook  them,  and  be  prepared 
to  march,  they  did  cook  them,  and  eat  them  if 
possible,  so  as  to  avoid  the  labor  of  carrying 
them.  It  was  not  such  an  undertaking  either, 
to  eat  three  days'  rations  in  one,  as  frequently 
none  had  been  issued  for  more  than  a  day,  and 
when  issued  were  cut  down  one  half. 

The  infantry  found  out  that  bayonets  were 
not  of  much  use,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  throw 
them,  with  the  scabbard,  away. 

The  artillerymen,  who  started  out  witli  heavy 
sabres  hanging  to  their  belts,  stuck  them  up  in 
the  mud  as  they  marched,  and  left  them  for  the 
ordnance  officers  to  pick  up  and  turn  over  to 
the  cavalry. 

The  cavalrymen  found  sabres  very  tiresome 
when  swung  to  the  belt,  and  adopted  the  plan 
of  fastening  them  to  the  saddle  on  the  left  side, 
with  the  hilt  in  front  and  in  reach  of  the  hand. 
Finally  sabres  got  very  scarce  even  among  the 
cavalrymen,  who  relied  more  and  more  on  their 
short  rifles. 


28  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

No  soldiers  ever  marched  with  less  to  encum 
ber  them,  and  none  marched  fasterlor  held  out 
longer. 

The  courage  and  devotion  of  the  men  rose 
equal  to  every  hardship  and  privation,  and  the 
very  intensity  of  their  sufferings  became  a 
source  of  merriment.  Instead  of  growling  and 
deserting,  they  laughed  at  their  own  bare  feet, 
ragged  clothes  and  pinched  faces;  and  weak, 
hungry,  cold,  wet,  worried  with  vermin  and 
itch,  dirty,  with  no  hope  of  reward  or  rest, 
marched  cheerfully  to  meet  the  well-fed  and 
rly  clad  hosts  of  the  enemy. 


CHAPTER   III. 

ROMANTIC   IDEAS   DISSIPATED. 

To  offer  a  man  promotion  in  the  early  part 
of  the  war  was  equivalent  to  an  insult.  The 
higher  the  social  position,  the  greater  the  wealth, 
the  more  patriotic  it  would  be  to  serve  in  the 
humble  position  of  a  private  ;  and  many  men 
of  education  and  ability  in  the  various  profes 
sions,  refusing  promotion,  served  under  the 
command  of  men  greatly  their  inferiors,  men 
tally,  morally,  and  as  soldiers.  It  soon  became 
apparent  that  the  country  wanted  knowledge 
and  ability,  as  well  as  muscle  and  endurance, 
and  those  who  had  capacity  to  serve  in  higher 
positions  were  promoted.  Still  it  remained 
true  that  inferior  men  commanded  their  supe 
riors  in  every  respect,  save  one  —  rank  ;  and 
leaving  out  the  one  difference  of  rank,  the  offi 
cers  and  men  were  about  on  a  par. 

It  took  years  to  teach  the  educated  privates 
in  the  army  that  it  was  their  duty  to  give  un 
questioning  obedience  to  officers  because  they 
were  such,  who  were  awhile  ago  their  play 
mates  and  associates  in  business.  It  frequently 


30  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

happened  that  the  private,  feeling  hurt  by  the 
stern  authority  of  the  officer,  would  ask  him  to 
one  side,  challenge  him  to  personal  combat,  and 
thrash  him  well.  After  awhile  these  privates 
learned  all  about  extra  duty,  half  rations,  and 
courts-martial. 

It  was  only  to  conquer  this  independent  re 
sistance  of  discipline  that  punishment  or  force 
was  necessary.  The  privates  were  as  willing 
and  anxious  to  fight  and  serve  as  the  officers, 
and  needed  no  pushing  up  to  their  duty.  It  is 
amusing  to  recall  the  disgust  with  which  the 
men  would  hear  of  their  assignment  to  the  rear 
as  reserves.  They  regarded  the  order  as  a 
deliberate  insult,  planned  by  some  officer  who 
had  a  grudge  against  their  regiment  or  bat 
tery,  who  had  adopted  this  plan  to  prevent 
their  presence  in  battle,  and  thus  humiliate 
them.  How  soon  did  they  learn  the  sweetness 
of  a  day's  repose  in  the  rear  ! 

Another  romantic  notion  which  for  awhile 
possessed  the  boys  was  that  soldiers  should  not 
try  to  be  comfortable,  but  glory  in  getting  wet, 
being  cold,  hungry,  and  tired.  So  they  refused 
shelter  in  houses  or  barns,  and  "  like  true  sol 
diers  "  paddled  about  in  the  mud  nnd  rain, 
thinking  thereby  to  serve  their  country  better. 
The  real  troubles  had  not  come,  and  they  were 
in  a  hurry  to  suffer  some.  They  had  not  long 


ROMANTIC   IDEAS   DISSIPATED.  31 

thus  impatiently  to  wait,  nor  could  they  latterly 
complain  of  the  want  of  a  chance  "  to  do  or 
die."  Volunteering  for  perilous  or  very  onerous 
dut}'  was  popular  at  the  outset,  but  as  duties  of 
this  kind  thickened  it  began  to  be  thought  time 
enough  when  the  u  orders  "  were  peremptory,  or 
the  orderly  read  the  "detail." 

Another  fancy  idea  was  that  the  principal 
occupation  of  a  soldier  should  be  actual  conflict 
with  the  enemy.  They  did  n't  dream  of  such  a 
thing  as  camping  for  six  months  at  a  time  with 
out  firing  a  gun,  or  marching  and  countermarch 
ing  to  mislead  the  enemy,  or  driving  wagons 
and  ambulances,  building  bridges,  currying 
horses,  and  the  thousand  commonplace  duties 
of  the  soldier. 

On  the  other  hand,  great  importance  was  at 
tached  to  some  duties  which  soon  became  mere 
drudgery.  Sometimes  the  whole  detail  for 
guard  —  first,  second,  and  third  relief  —  would 
make  it  a  point  of  honor  to  sit  up  the  entire 
night,  and  watch  and  listen  as  though  the 
enemy  might  pounce  upon  them  at  any  mo 
ment,  and  hurry  them  off  to  prison.  Of  course 
they  soon  learned  how  sweet  it  was,  after  two 
hours'  walking  of  the  beat,  to  turn  in  for  four 
hours !  which  seemed  to  the  sleepy  man  an 
eternity  in  anticipation,  but  only  a  brief  time 
in  retrospect,  when  the  corporal  gave  him  a 


32  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

"  chunk,"    and    remarked,    "  Time    to    go    on 
guard." 

Everybody  remembers  how  we  used  to  talk 
about    "  one    Confederate    whipping    a    dozen 


, 


- 
FALL  IN  H  ERE  THifcD  RELIEF! 

Yankees."  Literally  true  sometimes,  but,  gen 
erally  speaking,  two  to  one  made  hard  work  for 
the  boys.  They  did  n't  know  at  the  beginning 
anything  about  the  advantage  the  enemy  had 
in  being  able  to  present  man  for  man  in  front 
and  then  send  as  many  more  to  worry  the  flanks 
and  rear.  They  learned  something  about  this 
very  soon,  and  had  to  contend  against  it  on 
almost  every  field  they  won. 

Wounds  were  in  great  demand  after  the  first 
wounded  hero  made  his  appearance.    His  wound 


ROMANTIC   IDEAS   DISSIPATED.  33 

was  the  envy  of  thousands  of  unfortunates  who 
had  not  so  much  as  a  scratch  to  boast,  and  who 
felt  "  small  "  and  of  little  consequence  before 
the  man  with  a  bloody  bandage.  Many  be 
came  despondent  and  groaned  as  they  thought 
that  perchance  after  all  they  were  doomed  to 
go  home  safe  and  sound,  and  hear,  for  all  time, 
the  praises  of  the  fellow  who  had  lost  his  arm 
by  a  cannon  shot,  or  had  his  face  ripped  by  a 
sabre,  or  his  head  smashed  with  a  fragment  of 
shell.  After  awhile  the  wound  was  regarded 
as  a  practical  benefit.  It  secured  a  furlough  of 
indefinite  length,  good  eating,  the  attention  and 
admiration  of  the  fair,  and,  if  permanently  dis 
abling,  a  discharge.  Wisdom,  born  of  experi 
ence,  soon  taught  all  hands  better  sense,  and 
the  fences  and  trees  and  ditches  and  rocks  be 
came  valuable,  and  eagerly  sought  after  when 
"  the  music  "  of  "  minie  "  and  the  roar  of  the 
"  Napoleon  "  twelve-pounders  was  heard.  Death 
on  the  field,  glorious  first  and  last,  was  dared 
for  duty's  sake,  but  the  good  soldier  learned  to 
guard  his  life,  and  yield  it  only  at  the  call  of 
duty. 

Only  the  wisest  men,  those  who  had  seen  war 
before,  imagined  that  the  war  would  last  more 
than  a  few  months.  The  young  volunteers 
thought  one  good  battle  would  settle  the  whole 
matter;  and,  indeed,  after  "first  Manassas" 


34  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

many  thought  they  might  as  well  go  home ! 
The  whole  North  was  frightened,  and  no  more 
armies  would  dare  assail  the  soil  of  Old  Vir 
ginia.  Colonels  and  brigadiers,  with  flesh 
wounds  not  worthy  of  notice,  rushed  to  Rich 
mond  to  report  the  victory  and  the  end  of  the 
war  !  They  had  "  seen  sights  "  in  the  way  of 
wounded  and  killed,  plunder,  etc.,  and  according 
to  their  views,  no  sane  people  would  try  again 
to  conquer  the  heroes  of  that  remarkable  day. 

The  newspaper  men  delighted  in  telling  the 
soldiers  that  the  Yankees  were  a  diminutive 
race,  of  feeble  constitution,  timid  as  hares,  with 
no  enthusiasm,  and  that  they  would  perish  in 
short  order  under  the  glow  of  our  southern  sun. 
Any  one  who  has  seen  a  regiment  from  Ohio  or 
Maine  knows  how  true  these  statements  were. 
And  besides,  the  newspapers  did  not  mention 
the  English,  Irish,  German,  French,  Italian, 
Spanish,  Swiss,  Portuguese,  and  negroes,  who 
were  to  swell  the  numbers  of  the  enemy,  and  as 
our  arrny  grew  less  make  his  larger.  True, 
there  was  not  much  fight  in  all  this  rubbish,  but 
they  answered  well  enough  for  drivers  of  wag 
ons  and  ambulances,  guarding  stores  and  lines 
of  communication,  and  doing  all  sorts  of  duty, 
while  the  good  material  was  doing  the  fighting. 
Sherman's  army,  marching  through  Richmond 
after  the  surrender  of  Lee  and  Johnston, 


AN    EARLY   HERO       1861. 


ROMANTIC   IDEAS   DISSIPATED.  35 

seemed  to  be  composed  of  a  race  of  giants,  well- 
fed  and  well-clad. 

Many  feared  the  war  would  end  before  they 
would  have  a  fair  chance  to  "make  a  record," 
and  that  when  "the  cruel  war  was  over  "  they 
would  have  to  sit  by,  dumb,  and  hear  the  more 
fortunate  ones,  who  had  "  smelt  the  battle,"  tell 
to  admiring  home  circles  the  story  of  the  bloody 
field.  Most  of  these  "  got  in  "  in  time  to  satisfy 
their  longings,  and  "got  out"  to  learn  that 
the  man  who  did  not  go,  but  "  kept  out,"  and 
made  money,  was  more  admired  and  courted 
than  the  "  poor  fellow  "  with  one  leg  or  arm  less 
than  is  "allowed." 

It  is  fortunate  for  those  who  "  skulked  "  that 
the  war  ended  as  it  did,  for  had  the  South  been 
successful,  the  soldiers  would  have  been  favored 
with  every  mark  of  distinction  and  honor,  and 
they  "  despised  and  rejected,"  as  they  deserved 
to  be.  While  the  war  lasted  it  was  the  delight 
of  some  of  the  stoutly  built  fellows  to  go  home 
for  a  few  days,  and  kick  and  cuff  and  tongue- 
lash  the  able-bodied  bomb-proofs.  How  coolly 
and  submissively  they  took  it  all !  How  "big  " 
they  are  now  ! 

The  rubbish  accumulated  by  the  hope  of 
recognition  burdened  the  soldiers  nearly  to  the 
end.  England  was  to  abolish  the  blockade  and 
send  us  immense  supplies  of  fine  arms,  large 


36  SOLDIER  LIFE. 

and  small.  France  was  thinking  about  landing 
an  imperial  force  in  Mexico,  and  marching 
thence  to  the  relief  of  the  South.  But  the 
"  Confederate  yell "  never  had  an  echo  in  the 
"  Marseillaise,"  or  "  God  save  the  Queen  ;  "  and 
Old  Dixie  was  destined  to  sing  her  own  song, 
without  the  help  even  of  "  Maryland,  my  Mary 
land."  The  "  war  with  England,"  which  was 
to  give  Uncle  Sam  trouble  and  the  South  an 
ally,  never  came. 

Those  immense  balloons  which  somebody 
was  always  inventing,  and  which  were  to  sail 
over  the  enemy's  camps  dropping  whole  car 
goes  of  explosives,  never  "tugged"  at  their 
anchors,  or  "  sailed  majestically  away." 

As  discipline  improved  and  the  men  began  to 
feel  that  they  were  no  longer  simply  volunteers, 
but  enlisted  volunteers,  the  romantic  devotion 
which  they  had  felt  was  succeeded  by  a  feeling 
of  constraint  and  necessity,  and  while  the  army 
was  in  reality  very  much  improved  and  strength 
ened  by  the  change,  the  soldiers  imagined  the 
contrary  to  be  the  case.  And  if  discipline  had 
been  pushed  to  too  great  an  extent,  the  army 
would  have  been  deprived  of  the  very  essence 
of  its  life  and  power. 

When  the  officers  began  to  assert  superiority 
by  withdrawing  from  the  messes  and  organizing 
"  officers'  messes,"  the  bond  of  brotherhood  was 


ROMANTIC   IDEAS   DISSIPATED.  37 

weakened ;  and  who  will  say  that  the  dignity 
which  was  thus  maintained  was  compensation 
for  the  loss  of  personal  devotion  as  between 
comrades  ? 

At  the  outset,  the  fact  that  men  were  in  the 
same  company  put  them  somewhat  on  the  same 
level,  and  produced  an  almost  perfect  bond  of 
sympathy ;  but  as  time  wore  on,  the  various  pe 
culiarities  and  weaknesses  of  the  men  showed 
themselves,  and  each  company,  as  a  community, 
separated  into  distinct  circles,  as  indifferent  to 
each  other,  save  in  the  common  cause,  as  though 
they  had  never  met  as  friends. 

The  pride  of  the  volunteers  was  sorely  tried 
by  the  incoming  of  conscripts,  —  the  most  de 
spised  class  in  the  army,  — -  and  their  devotion 
to  company  and  regiment  was  visibly  lessened. 
They  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  having 
th^se  men  for  comrades,  and  felt  the  flag  insult 
ed  when  claimed  by  one  of  them  as  "  his  flag/' 
It  was  a  great  source  of  annoyance  to  the  true 
men,  but  was  a  necessity.  Conscripts  crowded 
together  in  companies,  regiments,  and  brigades 
would  have  been  useless,  but  scattered  here 
and  there  among  the  good  men,  were  utilized. 
And  so,  gradually,  the  pleasure  that  men  had 
in  being  associated  with  others  whom  they 
respected  as  equals  was  taken  away,  and  the 
social  aspect  of  army  life  seriously  marred. 
4 


38  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

The  next  serious  blow  to  romance  was  the 
abolishment  of  elections,  and  the  appointment 
of  officers.  Instead  of  the  privilege  and  pleas 
ure  of  picking  out  some  good-hearted,  brave 
comrade  and  making  him  captain,  (he  lieu 
tenant  was  promoted  without  the  consent  of 
the  men,  or,  what  was  harder  to  bear,  some  offi 
cer  hitherto  unknown  was  sent  to  take  com 
mand.  This  was  no  doubt  better  for  the  ser 
vice,  but  it  had  a  serious  effect  on  the  minds  of 
volunteer  patriot  soldiers,  and  looked  to  them 
too  much  like  arbitrary  power  exercised  over 
men  who  were  fighting  that  very  principle. 
They  frequently  had  to  acknowledge,  however, 
that  the  officers  were  all  they  could  ask,  and 
in  many  instances  became  devotedly  attached 
to  them. 

As  the  companies  were  decimated  by  dis 
ease,  wounds,  desertions,  and  death,  it  became 
necessary  to  consolidate  them,  and  the  social 
pleasures  received  another  blow.  Men  from 
the  same  neighborhoods  and  villages,  who  had 
been  schoolmates  together,  were  no  longer  in 
companies,  but  mingled  indiscriminately  with 
all  sorts  of  men  from  anywhere  and  every 
where. 

Those  who  have  not  served  in  the  army  as 
privates  can  form  no  idea  of  the  extent  to  which 
such  changes  as  those  just  mentioned  affect  the 


ROMANTIC    IDEAS    DISSIPATED.  39 

spirits  and  general  worth  of  a  soldier.  Men 
who,  when  surrounded  by  their  old  companions, 
were  brave  and  daring  soldiers,  full  of  spirit 
and  hope,  when  thrust  among  strangers  for 
whom  they  cared  not,  and  who  cared  not  for 
them,  became  dull  and  listless,  lost  their  cour 
age,  and  were  slowly  but  surely  "  demoralized." 
They  did,  it  is  true,  in  many  cases,  stand  up  to 
the  last,  but  they  did  it  on  dry  principle,  having 
none  of  that  enthusiasm  and  delight  in  duty 
which  once  characterized  them. 

The  Confederate  soldier  was  peculiar  in  that 
he  was  ever  ready  to  fight,  but  never  ready 
to  submit  to  the  routine  duty  and  discipline 
of  the  camp  or  the  march.  The  soldiers  were 
determined  to  be  soldiers  after  their  own  no 
tions,  and  do  their  duty,  for  the  love  of  it,  as 
they  thought  best.  The  officers  saw  the  neces 
sity  for  doing  otherwise,  and  so  the  conflict 
was  commenced  and  maintained  to  the  end. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  the  Southern  soldier 
would  have  submitted  to  any  hardships  which 
were  purely  the  result  of  discipline,  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  no  amount  of  hardship,  clearly  of 
necessity,  could  cool  his  ardor.  And  in  spite  of 
all  this  antagonism  between  the  officers  and  men, 
the  presence  of  conscripts,  the  consolidation  of 
commands,  and  many  other  discouraging  facts, 
the  privates  in  the  ranks  so  conducted  them- 


40  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

selves  that  the  historians  of  the  North  were 
forced  to  call  them  the  finest  body  of  infantry 
ever  assembled. 

But  to  know  the  men,  we  must  see  them 
divested  of  all  their  false  notions  of  soldier  life, 
and  enduring  the  incomparable  hardships  which 
marked  the  latter  half  of  the  war. 


CHAPTER    IV. 
ON    THE   MAKCH. 

IT  is  a  common  mistake  of  those  who  write  on 
subjects  familiar  to  themselves,  to  omit  the  de 
tails,  which,  to  one  not  so  conversant  with  the 
matters  discussed,  are  necessary  to  a  clear  ap 
preciation  of  the  meaning  of  the  writer.  This 
mistake  is  fatal  when  the  writer  lives  and  writes 
in  one  age  and  his  readers  live  in  another. 
And  so  a  soldier,  writing  for  the  information  of 
the  citizen,  should  forget  his  own  familiarity 
with  the  every-day  scenes  of  soldier  life  and 
strive  to  record  even  those  things  which  seem 
to  him  too  common  to  mention. 

Who  does  not  know  all  about  the  marching 
of  soldiers  ?  Those  who  have  never  marched 
with  them  and  some  who  have.  The  varied  ex 
perience  of  thousands  would  not  tell  the  whole 
story  of  the  march.  Every  man  must  be  heard 
before  the  story  is  told,  and  even  then  the  part 
of  those  who  fell  by  the  way  is  wanting. 

Orders  to  move  !  Where?  when  ?  what  for? 
—  are  the  eager  questions  of  the  men  as  they 
begin  their  preparations  to  march.  Generally 


42  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

nobody  can  answer,  and  the  journey  is  com 
menced  in  utter  ignorance  of  where  it  is  to  end. 
But  shrewd  guesses  are  made,  and  scraps  of  in 
formation  will  be  picked  up  on  the  way.  The 
main  thought  must  be  to  "  get  ready  to  move." 
The  orderly  sergeant  is  shouting  "  Fall  in  !  " 
and  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  The  probability 
is  that  before  you  get  your  blanket  rolled  up, 


find  your  frying  pan,  haversack,  axe,  etc.,  and 
"fall  in,"  the  roll-call  will  be  over,  and  some 
"  extra  duty"  provided. 

No  wonder  there  is  bustle  in  the  camp. 
Rapid  decisions  are  to  be  made  between  the  va 
rious  conveniences  which  have  accumulated,  for 
some  must  be  left.  One  fellow  picks  up  the 
skillet,  holds  it  awhile,  mentally  determining 


ON  THE   MARCH.  43 

how  much  it  weighs,  and  what  will  be  the 
weight  of  it  after  carrying  it  five  miles,  and  re 
luctantly,  with  a  half-ashamed,  sly  look,  drops 
it  and  takes  his  place  in  ranks.  Another  hav 
ing  added  to  his  store  of  blankets  too  freely, 
now  has  to  decide  which  of  the  two  or  three  he 
will  leave.  The  old  water-bucket  looks  large 
and  heavy,  but  one  stout-hearted,  strong-armed 
man  has  taken  it  affectionately  to  his  care. 

This  is  the  time  to  say  farewell  to  the  bread- 
tray,  farewell  to  the  little  piles  of  clean  straw 
laid  between  two  logs,  where  it  was  so  easy  to 
sleep ;  farewell  to  those  piles  of  wood,  cut  with 
so  much  labor;  farewell  to  the  girls  in  the 
neighborhood  ;  farewell  to  the  spring,  farewell 
to  "  our  tree  "  and  '-our  fire,"  good-by  to  the 
fellows  who  are  not  going,  and  a  general  good- 
by  to  the  very  hills  and  valleys. 

Soldiers  commonly  threw  away  the  most  val 
uable  articles  they  possessed.  Blankets,  over 
coats,  shoes,  bread  and  meat,  —  all  gave  way 
to  the  necessities  of  the  march  ;  and  what  one 
man  threw  away  would  frequently  be  the  very 
article  that  another  wanted  and  would  imme 
diately  pick  up  ;  so  there  was  not  much  lose 
after  all. 

The  first  hour  or  so  of  the  march  was  gen 
erally  quite  orderly,  the  men  preserving  their 
places  in  ranks  and  marching  in  solid  column ; 


44  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

but  soon  some  lively  fellow  whistles  an  air, 
somebody  else  starts  a  song,  the  whole  column 
breaks  out  with  roars  of  laughter ;  "  route 
step  "  takes  the  place  of  order,  and  the  jolly 
singing,  laughing,  talking,  and  joking  that  fol 
lows  no  one  could  describe. 

Now  let  any  young  officer  who  sports  a  new 
hat,  coat,  saddle,  or  anything  odd,  or  fine,  dare 
to  pass  along,  and  how  nicely  he  is  attended  to. 
The  expressions  of  good-natured  fun,  or  con 
tempt,  which  one  regiment  of  infantry  was  capa 
ble  of  uttering  in  a  day  for  the  benefit  of  such 
passers-by,  would  fill  a  volume.  As  one  thing 
or  another  in  the  dress  of  the  u  subject  "  of 
their  remarks  attracted  attention,  they  would 
shout,  "  Come  out  of  that  hat !  —  you  can't 
hide  in  thar  !  "  "  Come  out  of  that  coat,  come 
out  —  there's  a  man  in  it!"  "Come  out  of 
them  boots  !  ''  The  infantry  seemed  to  know 
exactly  what  to  say  to  torment  cavalry  and  ar 
tillery,  and  generally  said  it.  If  any  one  on 
the  roadside  was  simple  enough  to  recognize  and 
address  by  name  a  man  in  the  ranks,  the  whole 
column  would  kindly  respond,  and  add  all  sorts 
of  pleasant  remarks,  such  as,  "  Halloa,  John, 
here's  your  brother  !  "  "  Bill !  oh,  Bill !  here's 
your  ma  !  "  "  Glad  to  see  you  !  How  's  your 
grandma  ?  "  How  d  'ye  do  !  "  "  Come  out  of 
that  '  biled  shirt ' !  " 


ON   THE   MARCH.  45 

Troops  on  the  march  were  generally  so  cheer 
ful  and  gay  that  an  outsider,  looking  on  them  as 
they  marched,  would  hardly  imagine  how  they 
suffered.  In  summer  time,  the  dust,  combined 
with  the  heat,  caused  great  suffering.  The  nos 
trils  of  the  men,  filled  with  dust,  became  dry 
and  feverish,  and  even  the  throat  did  not  es 
cape.  The  "grit"  was  felt  between  the  teeth, 
and  the  eyes  were  rendered  almost  useless. 
There  was  dust  in  eyes,  mouth,  ears,  and  hair. 
The  shoes  were  full  of  sand,  and  the  dust,  pen 
etrating  the  clothes,  and  getting  in  at  the  neck, 
wrists,  and  ankles,  mixed  with  perspiration, 
produced  an  irritant  almost  as  active  as'  can- 
tharides.  The  heat  was  at  times  terrific,  but 
the  men  became  greatly  accustomed  to  it,  and 
endured  it  with  wonderful  ease.  Their  heavy 
woolen  clothes  were  a  great  annoyance  ;  tough 
linen  or  cotton  clothes  would  have  been  a  great 
relief ;  indeed,  there  are  many  objections  to 
woolen  clothing  for  soldiers,  even  in  winter. 
The  sun  produced  great  changes  in  the  appear 
ance  of  the  men:  their  skins,  tanned  to  a  dark 
brown  or  red,  their  hands  black  almost,  and 
long  uncut  beard  and  hair,  burned  to  a  strange 
color,  made  them  barely  recognizable  to  the 
home  folks. 

If  the  dust  and  the  heat  were  not  on  hand  to 
annoy,  their  very  able  substitutes  were  :  mud, 


46  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

cold,  rain,  snow,  hail  and  wind  took  their  places. 
Rain  was  the  greatest  discomfort  a  soldier  could 
have ;  it  was  more  uncomfortable  than  the  se 
verest  cold  with  clear  weather.  Wet  clothes, 
shoes,  and  blankets ;  wet  meat  and  bread  ;  wet 
feet  and  wet  ground  ;  wet  wood  to  burn,  or 
rather  not  to  burn  ;.  wet  arms  and  ammunition  ; 
wet  ground  to  sleep  on,  mud  to  wade  through, 
swollen  creeks  to  ford,  muddy  springs,  and  a 
thousand  other  discomforts  attended  the  rain. 
There  was  no  comfort  on  a  rainy  day  or  night 
except  in  "  bed,"  —  that  is,  under  your  blanket 
and  oil-cloth.  Cold  winds,  blowing  the  rain  in 
the  faces  of  the  men,  increased  the  discomfort. 
Mud  was  often  so  deep  as  to  submerge  the 
horses  and  mules,  and  at  times  it  was  necessary 
for  one  man  or  more  to  extricate  another  from 
the  mud  holes  in  the  road.  Night  marching 
was  attended  with  additional  discomforts  and 
dangers,  such  as  falling  off  bridges,  stumbling 
into  ditches,  tearing  the  face  and  injuring  the 
eyes  against  the  bushes  and  projecting  limbs 
of  trees,  and  getting  separated  from  your  own 
company  and  hopelessly  lost  in  the  multitude. 
Of  course,  a  man  lost  had  no  sympathy.  If  he 
dared  to  ask  a  question,  every  man  in  hearing 
would  answer,  eacli  differently,  and  then  the 
whole  multitude  would  roar  with  laughter  at 
the  lost  man,  and  ask  him  "  if  his  mother  knew 
he  was  out  ?  " 


ON    THE    MARCH.  47 

Very  few  men  had  comfortable  or  fitting 
shoes,  and  fewer  had  socks,  and,  as  a  conse 
quence,  the  suffering  from  bruised  and  inflamed 
feet  was  terrible.  It  was  a  common  practice,  on 
long  marches,  for  the  men  to  take  off  their 
shoes  and  carry  them  in  their  hands  or  swung 
over  the  shoulder.  Bloody  footprints  in  the 
snow  were  not  unknown  to  the  soldiers  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia  I 

When  large  bodies  of  troops  were  moving  on 
the  same  road,  the  alternate  "  halt  "  and  "  for 
ward  "  was  very  harassing.  Every  obstacle 
produced  a  halt,  and  caused  the  men  at  once  to 
sit  and  lie  down  on  the  roadside  where  shade 
or  grass  tempted  them  ;  about  the  time  they 
got  fixed  they  would  hear  the  word  "  forward  !  " 
and  then  have  to  move  at  increased  speed  to 
close  up  the  gap  in  the  column.  Sitting  down 
for  a  few  minutes  on  a  long  march  is  pleasant, 
but  it  does  not  always  pay ;  when  the  march 
is  resumed  the  limbs  are  stiff  and  sore,  and  the 
man  rather  worsted  by  the  halt. 

About  noon  on  a  hot  day,  some  fellow  with 
the  water  instinct  would  determine  in  his  own 
mind  that  a  well  was  not  far  ahead,  and  start 
off  in  a  trot  to  reach  it  before  the  column.  Of 
course  another  and  another  followed,  till  a 
stream  of  men  were  hurrying  to  the  well,  which 
was  soon  completely  surrounded  by  a  thirsty 


48 


SOLDIER    LIKE. 


mob,  yelling  and  pushing  and  pulling  to  get  to 
the  bucket  as  the  windlass  brought  it  again  and 
again  to  the  surface.  But  their  impatience  and 
haste  would  soon  overturn  the  windlass,  and 
spatter  the  water  all  around  the  well  till  the 
whole  crowd  were  wading  in  mud,  the  rope 
would  break,  and  the  bucket  fall  to  the  bot< 


A  WELL 

torn.  But  there  was  a  substitute  for  rope  and 
bucket.  The  men  would  hasten  away  and  get 
long,  slim  poles,  and  on  them  tie,  by  the  straps 
a  number  of  canteens,  which  they  lowered 
into  the  well  and  filled ;  and  unless,  as  was  fre 
quently  the  case,  the  whole  lot  slipped  off  and 
fell  to  the  bottom,  drew  them  to  the  top  and 
distributed  them  to  their  owners,  who  nt  once 


ON    THE    MARCH.  49 

threw  their  heads  back,  inserted  the  nozzles  in 
their  mouths  and  drank  the  last  drop,  hastening 
at  once  to  rejoin  the  marching  column,  leaving 
behind  them  a  dismantled  and  dry  well.  It 
was  in  vain  that  the  officers  tried  to  stop  the 
stream  of  men  making  for  the  water,  and 
equally  vain  to  attempt  to  move  the  crowd 
while  a  drop  remained  accessible.  Many,  who 
were  thoughtful,  carried  full  canteens  to  com 
rades  in  the  column,  who  had  not  been  able  to 
get  to  the  well ;  and  no  one  who  has  not  had 
experience  of  it  knows  the  thrill  of  gratification 
and  delight  which  those  fellows  felt  when  the 
cool  stream  gurgled  from  the  battered  canteen 
down  their  parched  throats. 

In  very  hot  weather,  when  the  necessities  of 
the  service  permitted,  there  was  a  halt  about 
noon,  of  an  hour  or  so,  to  rest  the  men  and  give 
them  a  chance  to  cool  off  and  get  the  sand  and 
gravel  out  of  their  shoes.  This  time  was  spent 
by  some  in  absolute  repose ;  but  the  lively 
boys  told  many  a  yarn,  cracked  many  a  joke, 
and  sung  many  a  song  between  "  Halt "  and 
"  Column  forward  !  "  Some  took  the  opportu 
nity,  if  water  was  near,  to  bathe  their  feet, 
hands,  and  face,  and  nothing  could  be  more  en 
joyable. 

The  passage  of  a  cider  cart  (a  barrel  on 
wheels)  was  a  rare  and  exciting  occurrence. 


50  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

The  rapidity  with  which  a  barrel  of  sweet  cider 
was  consumed  would  astonish  any  one  who  saw 
it  for  the  first  time,  and  generally  the  owner 
had  cause  to  wonder  at  the  small  return  in 
cash.  Sometimes  a  desperately  enterprising 
darkey  would  approach  the  column  with  a  cart 
load  of  pies,  "so-called."  It  would  be  impos 
sible  to  describe  accurately  the  taste  or  appear 
ance  of  those  pies.  They  were  generally  similar 
in  appearance,  size,  and  thickness  to  a  pale 
specimen  of  ."  Old  Virginia  "  buckwheat  cakes, 
and  had  a  taste  which  resembled  a  combination 
of  rancid  lard  and  crab  apples.  It  was  gener 
ally  supposed  that  they  contained  dried  apples, 
and  the  sellers  were  careful  to  state  that  they 
had  "  sugar  in  'em  "  and  were  "  mighty  nice." 
It  was  rarely  the  case  that  any  "  trace "  of 
sugar  was  found,  but  they  filled  up  a  hungry 
man  wonderfully. 

Men  of  sense,  and  there  were  many  such  in 
the  ranks,  were  necessarily  desirous  of  knowing 
where  or  how  far  they  were  to  march,  and  suf 
fered  greatly  from  a  feeling  of  helpless  igno 
rance  of  where  they  were  and  whither  bound  — 
whether  to  battle  or  camp.  Frequently,  when 
anticipating  the  quiet  and  rest  of  an  ideal  camp, 
they  were  thrown,  weary  and  exhausted,  into 
the  face  of  a  waiting  enemy,  and  at  times,  after 
anticipating  a  sharp  fight,  having  formed  line 


ON    THE   MARCH.  51 

of  battle  and  braced  themselves  for  the  coming 
danger,  suffered  all  the  apprehension  and  got 
themselves  in  good  fighting  trim,  they  were 
marched  off  in  the  driest  and  prosiest  sort  of 
style  and  ordered  into  camp,  where,  in  all  prob 
ability,  they  had  to  "wait  for  the  wagon," 
and  for  the  bread  and  meat  therein,  until  the 
proverb,  "  Patient  waiting  is  no  loss,"  lost  all 
its  force  and  beauty. 

Occasionally,  when  the  column  extended  for 
a  mile  or  more,  and  the  road  was  one  dense 
moving  mass  of  men,  a  cheer  would  be  heard 
away  ahead,  —  increasing  in  volume  as  it  ap 
proached,  until  there  was  one  universal  shout. 
Then  some  favorite  general  officer,  dashing  by, 
followed  by  his  staff,  would  explain  the  cause. 
At  other  times,  the  same  cheering  and  enthusi 
asm  would  result  from  the  passage  down  the  col 
umn  of  some  obscure  and  despised  officer,  who 
knew  it  was  all  a  joke,  and  looked  mean  and 
sheepish  accordingly.  But  no  man  could  pro 
duce  more  prolonged  or  hearty  cheers  than  the 
"  old  hare  "  which  jumped  the  fence  and  invited 
the  column  to  a  chase  ;  and  often  it  was  said, 
when  the  rolling  shout  arose  :  "  There  goes  old 
General  Lee  or  a  Molly  Cotton  Tail ! " 

The  men  would  help  each  other  when  in  real 
distress,  but  their  delight  was  to  torment  any 
one  who  was  unfortunate  in  a  ridiculous  way. 


52  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

If,  for  instance,  a,  piece  of  artillery  was  fast  in 
the  mud,  the  infantry  and  cavalry  passing 
around  the  obstruction  would  rack  their  brains 
for  words  and  phrases  applicable  to  the  situa 
tion,  and  most  calculated  to  worry  the  can- 
noniers,  who,  waist  deep  in  the  mud,  were  tug 
ging  at  the  wheels. 

Brass  bands,  at  first  quite  numerous  and 
good,  became  very  rare  and  their  music  very 
poor  in  the  latter  years  of  the  war.  It  was  a 
fine  thing  to  see  the  fellows  trying  to  keep  the 
music  going  as  they  waded  through  the  mud. 
But  poor  as  the  music  was,  it  helped  the  foot 
sore  and  weary  to  make  another  mile,  and  en 
couraged  a  cheer  and  a  brisker  step  from  the 
lagging  and  tired  column. 

As  the  men  tired,  there  was  less  and  less 
talking,  until  the  whole  mass  became  quiet  and 
serious.  Each  man  was  occupied  with  his  own 
thoughts.  For  miles  nothing  could  be  heard 
but  the  steady  tramp  of  the  men,  the  rattling 
and  jingling  of  canteens  and  accoutrements, 
and  the  occasional  "  Close  up,  men,  —  close 
up !  "  of  the  officers. 

The  most  refreshing  incidents  of  the  march 
occurred  when  the  column  entered  some  clean 
and  cosy  village  where  the  people  loved  the 
troops.  Matron  and  maid  vied  with  each  other 
in  their  efforts  to  express  their  devotion  to  the 


ON   THE  MARCH.  53 

defenders  of  their  cause.  Remembering  with 
tearful  eyes  the  absent  soldier  brother  or  hus 
band,  they  yet  smiled  through  their  tears,  and 
with  hearts  and  voices  welcomed  the  coming 
of  the  road-stained  troops.  Their  scanty  lard 
ers  poured  out  the  last  morsel,  and  their  brav 
est  words  were  spoken,  as  the  column  moved 
by.  But  who  will  tell  the  bitterness  of  the 
lot  of  the  man  who  thus  passed  by  his  own 
sweet  home,  or  the  anguish  of  the  mother  as 
she  renewed  her  farewell  to  her  darling  boy  ? 
Then  it  was  that  men  and  women  learned  to 
long  for  the  country  where  partings  are  no 
more. 

As  evening  came  on,  questioning  of  the  offi 
cers  was  in  order,  and  for  an  hour  it  would  be, 
"  Captain,  when  are  we  going  into  camp  ?"  "I 

say,    lieutenant,    are   we  going   to  or  to 

?  "      "  Seen    anything   of   our    wagon  ?  " 

"  How  long  are  we  to  stay  here  ?  "  "  Where  's 
the  spring  ?  "  Sometimes  these  questions  were 
meant  simply  to  tease,  but  generally  they  be 
trayed  anxiety  of  some  sort,  and  a  close  ob 
server  would  easily  detect  the  seriousness  of  the 
man  who  asked  after  "  our  wagon,"  because  he 
spoke  feelingly,  as  one  who  wanted  his  supper 
and  was  in  doubt  as  to  whether  or  not  he  would 
get  it.  People  who  live  on  country  roads  rarely 
know  how  far  it  is  from  anywhere  to  any- 
5 


54  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

where  else.  This  is  a  distinguishing  peculiar 
ity  of  that  class  of  people.  If  they  do  know, 
then  they  are  a  malicious  crew.  "  Just  over 
the  hill  there,"  "  Just  beyond  those  woods," 
"  'Bout  a  mile,"  "  Round  the  bend,"  and  other 
such  encouraging  replies,  mean  anything  from 
a  mile  to  a  day's  march  ! 

An  accomplished  straggler  could  assume  more 
misery,  look  more  horribly  emaciated,  tell  more 
dismal  stories  of  distress,  eat  more  and  march 
further  (to  the  rear),  than  any  ten  ordinary 
men.  Most  stragglers  were  real  sufferers,  but 
many  of  them  were  ingenious  liars,  energetic 
foragers,  plunder  hunters  and  gormandizers. 
Thousands  who  kept  their  place  in  ranks  to  the 
very  end  were  equally  as  tired,  as  sick,  as  hun 
gry,  and  as  hopeless,  as  these  scamps,  but  too 
proud  to  tell  it  or  use  it  as  a  means  of  escape 
from  hardship.  But  many  a  poor  fellow  dropped 
in  the  road  and  breathed  his  last  in  the  corner 
of  a  fence,  with  no  one  to  hear  his  last  fond 
mention  of  his  loved  ones.  And  many  whose 
ambition  it  was  to  share  every  danger  and  dis 
comfort  with  their  comrades,  overcome  by  the 
heat,  or  worn  out  with  disease,  were  compelled 
to  leave  the  ranks,  and  while  friend  and  brother 
marched  to  battle,  drag  their  weak  and  stagger 
ing  frames  to  the  rear,  perhaps  to  die  pitiably 
alone,  in  some  hospital. 


AN    ACCOMPLISHED    STRAGGLER. 


ON  THE   MARCH.  55 

After  all,  the  march  had  more  pleasure  than 
pain.  Chosen  friends  walked  and  talked  and 
smoked  together ;  the  hills  and  valleys  made 
themselves  a  panorama  for  the  feasting  of  the 
soldiers'  eyes  ;  a  turnip  patch  here  and  an  onion 
patch  there  invited  him  to  occasional  refresh 
ment  ;  and  it  was  sweet  to  think  that  "  camp  " 
was  near  at  hand,  and  rest,  and  the  journey 
almost  ended. 


CHAPTER   V. 

COOKING    AND    EATING. 

RATIONS  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia 
were  alternately  superabundant  and  altogether 
wanting.  The  quality,  quantity,  and  frequency 
of  them  depended  upon  the  amount  of  stores  in 
the  hands  of  the  commissaries,  the  relative  po 
sition  of  the  troops  and  the  wagon  trains,  and 
the  many  accidents  and  mishaps  of  the  cam 
paign.  During  the  latter  years  and  months  of 
the  war,  so  uncertain  was  the  issue  as  to  time, 
quantity,  and  composition,  that  the  men  became 
in  large  measure  independent  of  this  seeming  ab 
solute  necessity,  and  by  some  mysterious  means, 
known  only  to  purely  patriotic  soldiers,  learned 
to  fight  without  pay  and  to  find  subsistence  in 
the  field,  the  stream,  or  the  forest,  and  a  shelter 
on  the  bleak  mountain  side. 

Sometimes  there  was  an  abundant  issue  of 
bread,  and  no  meat ;  then  meat  in  any  quantity, 
and  no  flour  or  meal ;  sugar  in  abundance,  and 
no  coffee  to  be  had  for  "  love  or  money  ; "  and 
then  coffee  in  plenty,  without  a  grain  of  sugar  ; 
for  months  nothing  but  flour  for  bread,  and 


THE   COOK'S    PREROGATIVES    INVADED. 


COOKING  AND   EATING.  57 

then  nothing  but  meal  (till  all  hands  longed 
for  a  biscuit)  ;  or  fresh  meat  until  it  was  nau 
seating,  and  then  salt-pork  without  intermis 
sion. 

To  be  one  day  without  anything  to  eat  was 
common.  Two  days'  fasting,  marching  and 
fighting  was  not  uncommon,  and  there  were 
times  when  no  rations  were  issued  for  three  or 
four  days.  On  one  march,  from  Petersburg  to 
Appomattox,  no  rations  were  issued  to  Cut- 
shaw's  battalion  of  artillery  for  one  entire  week, 
and  the  men  subsisted  on  the  corn  intended  for 
the  battery  horses,  raw  bacon  captured  from  the 
enemy,  and  the  water  of  springs,  creeks,  and 
rivers. 

A  soldier  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia 
was  fortunate  when  he  had  his  flour,  meat, 
sugar,  and  coffee  all  at  the  same  time  and  in 
proper  quantity.  Having  these,  the  most  skill 
ful  axeman  of  the  mess  hewed  down  a  fine 
hickory  or  oak,  and  cut  it  into  "  lengths."  All 
hands  helped  to  "tote''  it  to  the  fire.  When 
wood  was  convenient,  the  fire  was  large,  the  red 
coals  abundant,  and  the  meal  soon  prepared. 

The  man  most  gifted  in  the  use  of  the  skillet 
was  the  one  most  highly  appreciated  about  the 
fire,  and  as  tyrannical  as  a  Turk ;  but  when 
he  raised  the  lid  of  the  oven  and  exposed  the 
brown-crusted  tops  of  the  biscuit,  animosity  sub- 


58  SOLDIER  LIFE. 

sided.  The  frying-pan,  full  of  "grease,"  then 
became  the  centre  of  attraction.  As  the  hol 
low-cheeked  boy  "  sopped  "  his  biscuit,  his  poor, 
pinched  countenance  wrinkled  into  a  smile,  and 
his  sunken  eyes  glistened  with  delight.  And 
the  coffee,  too,  —  how  delicious  the  aroma  of  it, 
and  how  readily  each  man  disposed  of  a  quart ! 
The  strong  men  gathered  round,  chuckling  at 
their  good  luck,  and  "cooing"  like  a  child  with 
a  big  piece  of  cake.  Ah,  this  was  a  sight  which 
but  few  of  those  who  live  and  die  are  permitted 
to  see  ! 

And  now  the  last  biscuit  is  gone,  the  last 
drop  of  coffee,  and  the  frying-pan  is  "  wiped" 
clean.  The  tobacco-bag  is  pulled  wide  open, 
pipes  are  scraped,  knocked  out,  and  filled,  the 
red  coal  is  applied,  and  the  blue  smoke  rises  in 
wreaths  and  curls  from  the  mouths  of  the  no 
longer  hungry,  but  happy  and  contented  sol 
diers.  Songs  rise  on  the  still  night  air,  the 
merry  laugh  resounds,  the  woods  are  bright 
with  the  rising  flame  of  the  fire,  story  after 
story  is  told,  song  after  song  is  sung,  and  at 
midnight  the  soldiers  steal  away  one  by  one  to 
their  blankets  on  the  ground,  and  sleep  till  re 
veille.  Such  was  a  meal  when  the  mess  was 
fortunate. 

How  different  when  the  wagons  have  not  been 
heard  from  for  forty-eight  hours.  Now  the  ques- 


COOKING  AND   EATING.  59 

tion  is,  how  to  do  the  largest  amount  of  good  to 
the  largest  number  with  the  smallest  amount  of 
material  ?  The  most  experienced  men  discuss  the 
situation  and  decide  that  "  somebody  "  must  go 
foraging.  Though  the  stock  on  hand  is  small, 
no  one  seems  anxious  to  leave  the  small  certainty 
and  go  in  search  of  the  large  uncertainty  of  sup 
per  from  some  farmer's  well-filled  table  ;  but  at 
last  several  comrades  start  out,  and  as  they  dis 
appear  the  preparations  for  immediate  consump 
tion  commence.  The  meat  is  too  little  to  cook 
alone,  and  the  flour  will  scarcely  make  six  bis 
cuits.  The  result  is  that  "  slosh  "  or  "  coosh  " 
must  do.  So  the  bacon  is  fried  out  till  the  pan 
is  half  full  of  boiling  grease.  The  flour  is 
mixed  with  water  until  it  flows  like  milk, 
poured  into  the  grease  and  rapidly  stirred  till 
the  whole  is  a  dirty  brown  mixture.  It  is  now 
ready  to  be  served.  Perhaps  some  dainty  fel 
low  pre-fers  the  more  imposing  "  slapjack." 
If  so,  the  flour  is  mixed  with  less  water,  the 
grease  reduced,  and  the  paste  poured  in  till  it 
covers  the  bottom  of  the  pan,  and,  when  brown 
on  the  underside,  is,  by  a  nimble  twist  of  the 
pan,  turned  and  browned  again.  If  there  is 
any  sugar  in  camp  it  makes  a  delicious  addi 
tion. 

About  the  time  the  last  scrap  of  "  slapjack  " 
and  the  last  spoonful  of  "  slosh  "  are  disposed 


60  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

of,  the  unhappy  foragers  return.  They  take  in 
the  situation  at  a  glance,  realize  with  painful 
distinctness  that  they  have  sacrificed  the  homely 
slosh  for  the  vain  expectancy  of  apple  butter, 
shortcake,  and  milk,  and,  with  woeful  counte 
nance  and  mournful  voice,  narrate  their  adven 
ture  and  disappointment  thus  :  "  Well,  boys,  we 
have  done  the  best  we  could.  We  have  walked 
about  nine  miles  over  the  mountain,  and  have  n't 
found  a  mouthful  to  eat.  Sorry,  but  it 's  a  fact. 
Give  us  our  biscuits."  Of  course  there  are  none, 
and,  as  it  is  not  contrary  to  army  etiquette  to 
do  so,  the  whole  mess  professes  to  be  very 
sorry.  Sometimes,  however,  the  foragers  re 
turned  well  laden  with  good  things,  and  as 
good  comrades  should,  shared  the  fruits  of  their 
toilsome  hunt  with  their  comrades. 

Foragers  thought  it  not  indelicate  to  linger 
about  the  house  of  the  unsuspecting  farmer  till 
the  lamp  revealed  the  family  at  supper,  and 
then  modestly  approach  and  knock  at  the  door. 
As  the  good-hearted  man  knew  that  his  guests 
were  "posted"  about  the  meal  in  progress  in 
the  next  room,  the  invitation  to  supper  was 
given,  and,  shall  I  say  it,  accepted  with  an  un 
becoming  lack  of  reluctance. 

The  following  illustrates  the  ingenuity  of  the 
average  forager.  There  was  great  scarcity  of 
meat,  and  no  prospect  of  a  supply  from  the  wag- 


COOKING   AND   EATING.  61 

ons.  Two  experienced  foragers  were  sent  out, 
and  as  a  farmer  about  ten  miles  from  the  camp 
was  killing  bogs,  guided  by  soldier  instinct, 
they  went  directly  to  his  house,  and  found  the 
meat  nicely  cut  up,  the  various  pieces  of  each 
hog  making  a  separate  pile  on  the  floor  of  an 
outhouse.  The  proposition  to  buy  met  with  a 
surprisingly  ready  response  on  the  part  of  the 
farmer.  He  offered  one  entire  pile  of  meat,  be 
ing  one  whole  hog,  for  such  a  small  sum  that 
the  foragers  instantly  closed  the  bargain,  and  as 
promptly  opened  their  eyes  to  the  danger  which 
menaced  them.  They  gave  the  old  gentleman 
a  ten-dollar  bill  and  requested  change.  Pleased 
with  their  honest  method  he  hastened  away 
to  his  house  to  obtain  it.  The  two  honest 
foragers  hastily  examined  the  particular  pile 
of  pork  which  the  simple-hearted  farmer  desig 
nated  as  theirs,  found  it  very  rank  and  totally 
unfit  for  food,  transferred  half  of  it  to  another 
pile,  from  which  they  took  half  and  added  to 
theirs,  and  awaited  the  return  of  the  farmer. 
On  giving  them  their  change,  he  assured  them 
that  they  had  a  bargain.  They  agreed  that 
they  had,  tossed  good  and  bad  together  in  a 
bag,  said  good- by,  and  departed  as  rapidly  as 
artillerymen  on  foot  can.  The  result  of  the  trip 
was  a  "  pot-pie  "  of  large  dimensions  ;  and  some 
six  or  eight  men  gorged  with  fat  pork  declared 


62  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

that  they  had  never  cared  for  and  would  not 
again  wish  to  eat  pork,  —  especially  pork -pies. 

A  large  proportion  of  the  eating  of  the  army 
was  done  in  the  houses  and  at  the  tables  of  the 
people,  not  by  the  use  of  force,  but  by  the  wish 
and  invitation  of  the  people.  It  was  at  times 
necessary  that  whole  towns  should  help  to  sus 
tain  the  army  of  defense,  and  when  this  was  the 
case,  it  was  done  voluntarily  and  cheerfully. 
The  soldiers  —  all  who  conducted  themselves 
properly  —  were  received  as  honored  guests  and 
given  the  best  in  the  house.  There  was  a  won 
derful  absence  of  stealing  or  plundering,  and 
even  when  the  people  suffered  from  depredation 
they  attributed  the  cause  to  terrible  necessity 
rather  than  to  wanton  disregard  of  the  rights  of 
property.  And  when  armed  guards  were  placed 
over  the  smoke-houses  and  barns,  it  was  not  so 
much  because  the  commanding  general  doubted 
the  honesty  as  that  he  knew  the  necessities  of 
his  troops.  But  even  pinching  hunger  was  not 
held  to  be  an  excuse  for  marauding  expeditions. 

The  inability  of  the  government  to  furnish 
supplies  forced  the  men  to  depend  largely  upon 
their  own  energy  and  ingenuity  to  obtain  them. 
The  officers,  knowing  this,  relaxed  discipline  to 
an  extent  which  would  seem,  to  a  European 
officer,  for  instance,  ruinous.  It  was  no  uncom 
mon  sight  to  see  a  brigade  or  division,  which 


COOKING   AND   EATING.  63 

was  but  a  moment  before  marching  in  solid  col 
umn  along  the  road,  scattered  over  an  immense 
field  searching  for  the  luscious  blackberries. 
And  it  was  wonderful  to  see  how  promptly  and 
cheerfully  all  returned  to  the  ranks  when  the 
field  was  gleaned.  In  the  fall  of  the  year  a  per 
simmon  tree  on  the  roadside  would  halt  a  col 
umn  and  detain  it  till  the  last  persimmon  dis 
appeared. 

The  sutler's  wagon,  loaded  with  luxuries, 
which  was  so  common  in  the  Federal  army,  was 
unknown  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia, 
for  two  reasons :  the  men  had  no  money  to 
buy  sutlers'  stores,  and  the  country  no  men  to 
spare  for  sutlers.  The  nearest  approach  to  the 
sutler's  wagon  was  the  "  cider  cart  "  of  some 
old  darkey,  or  a  basket  of  pies  and  cakes  dis 
played  on  the  roadside  for  sale. 

The  Confederate  soldier  relied  greatly  upon 
the  abundant  supplies  of  eatables  which  the 
enemy  was  kind  enough  to  bring  him,  and  he 
cheerfully  risked  his  life  for  the  accomplish 
ment  of  the  twofold  purpose  of  whipping  the 
enemy  and  getting  what  he  called  "a  square 
meal."  After  a  battle  there  was  general  feast 
ing  on  the  Confederate  side.  Good  things, 
scarcely  ever  seen  at  other  times,  filled  the 
haversacks  and  the  stomachs  of  the  "  Boys  in 
Gray."  Imagine  the  feelings  of  men  half 


64  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

famished  when  they  rush  into  a  camp  at  one 
side,  while  the  enemy  flees  from  the  other,  and 
find  the  coffee  on  the  fire,  sugar  at  hand  ready 
to  be  dropped  into  the  coffee,  bread  in  the  oven, 
crackers  by  the  box,  fine  beef  ready  cooked, 
desiccated  vegetables  by.  the  bushel,  canned 
peaches,  lobsters,  tomatoes,  milk,  barrels  of 
ground  and  roasted  coffee,  soda,  salt,  and  in  short 
everything  a  hungry  soldier  craves.  Then  add 
the  liquors,  wines,  cigars,  and  tobacco  found  in 
the  tents  of  the  officers  and  the  wagons  of  the 
sutlers,  and,  remembering  the  condition  of  the 
victorious  party,  hungry,  thirsty,  and  weary,  say 
if  it  did  not  require  wonderful  devotion  to 
duty,  and  great  self-denial  to  push  on,  tramp 
ling  under  foot  the  plunder  of  the  camp,  and 
pursue  the  enemy  till  the  sun  went  down. 

When  it  was  allowable  to  halt,  what  a  glori 
ous  time  it  was !  Men,  who  a  moment  before 
would  have  been  delighted  with  a  pone  of  corn- 
bread  and  a  piece  of  fat  meat,  discuss  the  com 
parative  merits  of  peaches  and  milk  and  fresh 
tomatoes,  lobster  and  roast  beef,  and,  forgetting 
the  briar-root  pipe,  faithful  companion  of  the 
vicissitudes  of  the  soldier's  life,  snuff  the  aroma 
of  imported  Havanas. 

In  sharp  contrast  with  the  mess-cooking  at 
the  big  fire  was  the  serious  and  diligent  work 
of  the  man  separated  from  his  comrades,  out  of 


COOKING   AND   EATING.  65 

reach  of  the  woods,  but  bent  on  cooking  and 
eating.  He  has  found  a  coal  of  fire,  and  hav 
ing  placed  over  it,  in  an  ingenious  manner,  the 
few  leaves  and  twigs  near  his  post,  he  fans  the 
little  pile  with  his  hat.  It  soon  blazes.  Fear 
ing  the  utter  consumption  of  his  fuel,  he  hastens 
to  balance  on  the  little  fire  his  tin  cup  of  water. 
When  it  boils,  from  some  secure  place  in  his 
clothes  he  takes  a  little  coffee  and  drops  it  in 
the  cup,  and  almost  instantly  the  cup  is  re 
moved  and  set  aside ;  then  a  slice  of  fat  meat 
is  laid  on  the  coals,  and  when  brown  and  crisp, 
completes  the  meal  —  for  the  "  crackers,"  or 
biscuit,  are  ready.  No  one  but  a  soldier  would 
have  undertaken  to  cook  with  such  a  fire,  as 
frequently  it  was  no  bigger  than  a  quart  cup. 

Crackers,  or  "  hard  tack  "  as  they  were  called, 
are  notoriously  poor  eating,  but  in  the  hands  of 
the  Confederate  soldier  were  made  to  do  good 
duty.  When  on  the  march  and  pressed  for 
time,  a  piece  of  solid  fat  pork  and  a  dry  cracker 
was  passable  or  luscious,  as  the  time  was  long 
or  short  since  the  last  meal.  When  there  was 
leisure  to  do  it,  hardtack  was  soaked  well  and 
then  fried  in  bacon  grease.  Prepared  thus,  it 
was  a  dish  which  no  Confederate  had  the  weak 
ness  or  the  strength  to  refuse. 

Sorghum,  in  the  absence  of  the  better  molas 
ses  of  peace  times,  was  greatly  prized  and 
6 


66  SOLDIER    LIKE. 

eagerly  sought  after.  A  "Union  "  man  living 
near  the  Confederate  lines  was  one  day  busy 
boiling  his  crop.  Naturally  enough,  some  of 
"  our  boys  "  smelt  out  the  place  and  determined 
to  have  some  of  the  sweet  fluid.  They  had 
found  a  yearling  dead  in  the  field  hard  by,  and 
in  thinking  over  the  matter  determined  to  sell 
the  Union  man  if  possible.  So  they  cut  from 
the  dead  animal  a  choice  piece  of  beef,  carried 
it  to  the  old  fellow  and  offered  to  trade.  He 
accepted  the  offer,  and  the  whole  party  walked 
off  with  canteens  full. 

Artillerymen,  having  tender  consciences  and 
no  muskets,  seldom,  if  ever,  shot  stray  pigs ; 
but  they  did  sometimes,  as  an  act  of  friendship, 
wholly  disinterested,  point  oat  to  the  infantry 
a  pig  which  seemed  to  need  shooting,  and  by 
way  of  dividing  the  danger  and  responsibility 
of  the  act,  accept  privately  a  choice  part  of  the 
deceased. 

On  one  occasion,  when  a  civilian  was  dining 
with  the  mess,  there  was  a  fine  pig  for  dinner. 
This  circumstance  caused  the  civilian  to  re 
mark  on  the  good  fare.  The  "  forager  "  replied 
that  pig  was  an  uncommon  dish,  this  one 
having  been  kicked  by  one  of  the  battery 
horses  while  stealing  corn,  and  instantly  killed. 
The  civilian  seemed  to  doubt  the  statement 
after  his  teeth  had  come  down  hard  on  a  pistol 


COOKING   AND    RATING.  67 

bullet,  and  continued  to  doubt,  though  assured 
that  it  was  the  head  of  a  horse -shoe  nail. 

The  most  melancholy  eating  a  soldier  was 
ever  forced  to  do,  was,  when  pinched  with  hun 
ger,  cold,  wet,  and  dejected,  he  wandered  over 
the  deserted  field  of  battle  and  satisfied  his 
cravings  with  the  contents  of  the  haversacks  of 
the  dead.  If  there  is  anything  which  will  over 
come  the  natural  abhorrence  which  a  man  feels 
for  the  enemy,  the  loathing  of  the  bloated  dead, 
and  the  awe  engendered  by  the  presence  of 
death,  solitude,  and  silence,  it  is  hunger.  Im 
pelled  by  its  clamoring,  men  of  high  principle 
and  tenderest  humanity  become  for  the  time 
void  of  sensibility,  and  condescend  to  acts 
which,  though  justified  by  their  extremity,  seem 
afterwards,  even  to  the  doers,  too  shameless  to 
mention. 

When  rations  became  so  very  small  that  it 
was  absolutely  necessary  to  supplement  them, 
and  the  camp  was  permanently  established,  those 
men  who  had  the  physical  ability  worked  for 
the  neighborhood  farmers  at  cutting  cord-wood, 
harvesting  the  crops,  killing  hogs,  or  any  other 
farm-work.  A  stout  man  would  cut  a  cord  of 
wood  a  day  and  receive  fifty  cents  in  money,  or 
its  equivalent  in  something  eatable.  Hogs  were 
slaughtered  for  the  "  fifth  quarter."  When  the 
corn  became  large  enough  to  eat,  the  roasting 


68  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

ears,  thrown  in  the  ashes  with  the  shucks  on, 
and  nicety  roasted,  made  a  grateful  meal.  Tur 
nip  and  onion  patches  also  furnished  delightful 
and  much-needed  food,  good  raw  or  cooked. 

Occasionally,  when  a  mess  was  hard  pushed 
for  eatables,  it  became  necessary  to  resort  to 
some  ingenious  method  of  disgusting  a  part 
of  the  mess,  that  the  others  might  eat  their 
fill.  The  "  pepper  treatment  "  was  a  common 
method  practiced  with  the  soup,  which  once 
failed.  A  shrewd  fellow,  who  loved  things 
"  hot,"  decided  to  have  plenty  of  soup,  and  to 
accomplish  his  purpose,  as  he  passed  and  re- 
passed  the  boiling  pot,  dropped  in  a  pod  of  red 
pepper.  But,  alas  !  for  him,  there  was  another 
man  like  minded  who  adopted  the  same  plan, 
and  the  result  was  that  all  the  mess  waited  in 
vain  for  that  pot  of  soup  to  cool. 

The  individual  coffee-boiler  of  one  man  in 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  was  always  kept 
at  the  boiling  point.  The  owner  of  it  was  an 
enigma  to  his  comrades.  They  could  not  under 
stand  his  strange  fondness  for  "  red-hot"  coffee. 
Since  the  war  he  has  explained  that  he  found 
the  heat  of  the  coffee  prevented  its  use  by 
others,  and  adopted  the  plan  of  placing  his  cup 
on  the  fire  after  every  sip.  This  same  character 
never  troubled  himself  to  carry  a  canteen,  though 
a  great  water  drinker.  When  he  found  a  good 


COOKING   AND   EATING.  69 

canteen  he  would  kindly  give  it  to  a  comrade, 
reserving  the  privilege  of  an  occasional  drink 
when  in  need.  He  soon  had  an  interest  in 
thirty  or  forty  canteens  and  their  contents,  and 
could  always  get  a  drink  of  water  if  it  was  to 
be  found  in  any  of  them.  He  pursued  the  same 
plan  with  blankets,  and  always  had  plenty  in 
that  line.  His  entire  outfit  was  the  clothes  on 
his  back  and  a  haversack  accurately  shaped  to 
hold  one  half  pone  of  corn  bread. 

Roasting-ear  time  was  a  trying  time  for  the 
hungry  private.  Having  been  fed  during  the 
whole  of  the  winter  on  salt  meat  and  coarse 
bread,  his  system  craved  the  fresh,  luscious 
juice  of  the  corn,  and  at  times  his  honesty  gave 
way  under  the  pressure.  How  could  he  resist  ? 
He  did  n't,  —  he  took  some  roasting  ears ! 
Sometimes  the  farmer  grumbled,  sometimes  he 
quarreled,  and  sometimes  he  complained  to  the 
officers  of  the  depredations  of  "  the  men."  The 
officers  apologized,  ate  what  corn  they  had  on 
hand,  and  sent  their  "  boy "  for  some  more. 
One  old  farmer  conceived  the  happy  plan  of 
inviting  some  privates  to  his  house,  stating  his 
grievances,  and  securing  their  cooperation  in 
the  effort  to  protect  his  com.  He  told  them 
that  of  course  they  were  not  the  gentlemen 
wTho  took  his  corn  !  Oh  no !  of  course  they 
would  not  do  such  a  thing  ;  but  would  n't  they 


70  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

please  speak  to  the  others  and  ask  them  please 
not  to  take  his  corn  ?  Of  course !  certainly  ! 
oh,  yes !  they  would  remonstrate  with  their 
comrades.  How  they  burned,  though,  as  they 
thought  of  the  past  and  contemplated  the  near 
future.  As  they  returned  to  camp  through  the 
Held  they  filled  their  haversacks  with  the  silky 
ears,  and  were  met  on  the  other  side  of  the 
field  by  the  kind  farmer  and  a  file  of  men,  who 
were  only  too  eager  to  secure  the  plucked  corn 
"  in  the  line  of  duty." 

A  faithful  officer,  worn  out  with  the  long, 
weary  march,  sick,  hungry,  and  dejected,  leaned 
his  back  against  a  tree  and  groaned  to  think  of 
his  inability  to  join  in  the  chase  of  an  old  hare, 
which,  he  knew,  from  the  wild  yells  in  the  wood, 
his  men  were  pursuing.  But  the  uproar  ap 
proached  him  —  nearer,  nearer,  and  nearer,  un 
til  he  saw  the  hare  bounding  towards  him  with 
a  regiment  at  her  heels.  She  spied  an  opening 
made  by  the  folds  of  the  officer's  cloak  and 
jumped  in,  and  he  embraced  his  first  meal  for 
forty-eight  hours. 

An  artilleryman,  camped  for  a  day  where  no 
water  was  to  be  found  easily,  awakened  during 
the  night  by  thirst,  went  stumbling  about  in 
search  of  water  ;  and  to  his  great  delight  found 
a  large  bucketful.  He  drank  his  fill,  and  in  the 
morning  found  that  what  lie  drank  Imd  washed 


COOKING   AND   EATING.  71 

a  bullock's  head,  and  was  crimson  with  its 
blood. 

Some  stragglers  came  up  one  night  and  found 
the  camp  silent.  All  hands  asleep.  Being 
hungry  they  sought  and  to  their  great  delight 
found  a  large  pot  of  soup.  It  had  a  peculiar 
taste,  but  they  "  worried  "  it  down,  and  in  the 
morning  bragged  of  their  good  fortune.  The 
soup  had  defied  the  stomachs  of  the  whole  bat 
tery,  being  strongly  impregnated  with  the  pe 
culiar  flavor  of  defunct  cockroaches. 

Shortly  before  the  evacuation  of  Petersburg, 
a  country  boy  went  hunting.  He  killed  and 
brought  to  camp  a  musk  rat.  It  was  skinned, 
cleaned,  buried  a  day  or  two,  disinterred,  cooked, 
and  eaten  with  great  relish.  It  was  splendid. 

During  the  seven  days'  battles  around  Rich 
mond,  a  studious  private  observed  the  rats  as 
they  entered  and  emerged  from  a  corn-crib. 
He  killed  one,  cooked  it  privately,  and  invited 
a  friend  to  join  him  in  eating  a  fine  squirrel. 
The  comrade  consented,  ate  heartily,  and  when 
told  what  he  had  eaten,  forthwith  disgorged. 
But  he  confesses  that  up  to  the  time  when  he 
was  enlightened  he  had  greatly  enjoyed  the 
meal. 

It  was  at  this  time,  when  rats  were  a  delicacy, 
that  the  troops  around  Richmond  agreed  to  di 
vide  their  rations  with  the  poor  of  the  city,  and 


72  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

they  were  actually  hauled  in  and  distributed. 
Comment  here  would  be  like  complimenting 
the  sun  on  its  brilliancy. 

Orators  dwell  on  the  genius  and  skill  of  the 
general  officers  ;  historians  tell  of  the  move 
ments  of  divisions  and  army  corps,  and  the 
student  of  the  art  of  war  studies  the  geography 
and  topography  of  the  country  and  the  returns 
of  the  various  corps  :  they  all  seek  to  find  and 
to  tell  the  secret  of  success  or  failure.  The 
Confederate  soldier  knows  the  elements  of  his 
success  —  courage,  endurance,  and  devotion.  He 
knows  also  by  whom  he  was  defeated  —  sick 
ness,  starvation,  death.  He  fought  not  men 
only,  but  food,  raiment,  pay,  glory,  fame,  and 
fanaticism.  He  endured  privation,  toil,  and 
contempt.  He  won,  and  despite  the  cold  indif 
ference  of  all  and  the  hearty  hatred  of  some,  he 
will  have  for  all  time,  in  all  places  where  gen 
erosity  is,  a  fame  untarnished. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

COMFORTS,    CONVENIENCES,    AND   CONSOLA 
TIONS. 

HAVE  you  ever  been  a  soldier  ?  No  ?  Then 
you  do  not  know  what  comforts  are  !  Con 
veniences  you  never  had ;  animal  consolations, 
never!  You  have  not  enjoyed  the  great  ex 
ceptional  luxuries  which  once  in  a  century,  per 
haps,  bless  a  limited  number  of  men.  How 
sad,  that  you  have  allowed  your  opportunity  to 
pass  unimproved  ! 

But  you  "have  been  a  soldier !  Ah,  then  let 
us  together  recall  with  pleasure,  the  past !  once 
more  be  hungry,  and  eat ;  once  more  tired,  and 
rest ;  once  more  thirsty,  and  drink ;  once  more, 
cold  and  wet,  let  us  sit  by  the  roaring  fire  and 
feel  comfort  creep  over  us.  So  !  —  isn't  it  very 
pleasant  ? 

Now  let  us  recount,  repossess  rather,  the  treas 
ures  which  once  were  ours,  not  forgetting  that 
values  have  shrunk,  and  that  the  times  have 
changed,  and  that  men  also  are  changed ;  some 
happily,  some  wofully.  Possibly  we,  also,  are 
somewhat  modified. 


74  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

Eating,  you  will  remember,  was  more  than  a 
convenience  ;  it  was  a  comfort  which  rose  al 
most  to  the  height  of  a  consolation.  Probably 
the  most  universally  desired  comfort  of  the  Con 
federate  soldier  was  "something  to  eat."  But 
this,  like  all  greatly  desired  blessings,  was  shy, 
and  when,  obtained  was,  to  the  average  seeker, 
not  replete  with  satisfaction. 

But  he  did  eat,  at  times,  with  great  energy, 
great  endurance,  great  capacity,  and  great  sat 
isfaction  ;  the  luscious  slapjack,  sweetened  per 
haps  with  sorghum,  the  yellow  and  odoriferous 
soda-biscuit,  ash-cake,  or,  it  might  chance  to  be, 
the  faithful  "  hardtack  "  (which  "  our  friends 
the  enemy"  called  "crackers")  serving  in  ro 
tation  as  bread. 

The  faithful  hog  was  everywhere  represented. 
His  cheering  presence  was  manifested  most 
agreeably  by  the  sweet  odors  flung  to  the  breeze 
from  the  frying-pan,  —  that  never  failing  and 
always  reliable  utensil.  The  solid  slices  of 
streaked  lean  and  fat,  the  limpid  gravy,  the 
brown  pan  of  slosh  inviting  you  to  sop  it,  and 
the  rare,  delicate  shortness  of  the  biscuit,  made 
the  homely  animal  to  be  in  high  esteem. 

Beef,  glorious  beef  !  how  seldom  were  you 
seen,  and  how  welcome  was  your  presence.  In 
the  generous  pot  you  parted  with  your  mysteri 
ous  strength  and  sweetness.  Impaled  upon  the 


COMFORTS,    CONVENIENCES,    CONSOLATIONS.     75 

cruel  ramrod  you  suffered  slow  torture  over  the 
fire.  Sliced,  chopped,  and  pounded  ;  boiled, 
stewed,  fried,  or  broiled,  always  a  trusty  friend, 
and  sweet  comforter. 

Happy  the  "  fire  "  where  the  "  stray  "  pig 
found  a  lover,  and  unhappy  the  pig !  Innocence 
and  youth  were  no  protection  to  him,  and  his 
cries  of  distress  availed  him  not  as  against  the 
cruel  purpose  of  the  rude  soldiery. 

What  is  that  faint  aroma  which  steals  about 
on  the  night  air  ?  Is  it  a  celestial  breeze  ?  No  ! 
it  is  the  mist  of  the  coffee- boiler.  Do  you  not 
hear  the  tumult  of  the  tumbling  water?  Poor 
man  !  you  have  eaten,  and  now  other  joys  press 
upon  you.  Drink  !  drink  more  !  Near  the  bot 
tom  it  is  sweeter.  Providence  hath  now  joined 
together  for  you  the  bitter  and  the  sweet,  — 
there  is  sugar  in  that  cup  ! 

Some  poor  fellows,  after  eating,  could  only 
sleep.  They  were  incapable  of  the  noble  satis 
faction  of  "  a  good  smoke."  But  there  were 
some  good  men  and  true,  thoughtful  men, 
quietly  disposed  men,  gentle  and  kind,  who, 
next  to  a  good  "  square  "  meal  prized  a  smoke. 
Possibly,  here  begins  consolation.  Who  can 
find  words  to  tell  the  story  of  the  soldier's  affec 
tion  for  his  faithful  briar-root  pipe !  As  the 
cloudy  incense  of  the  weed  rises  in  circling 
wreaths  about  his  head,  as  he  hears  the  mur- 


76  SOLDIER    LIKE. 

inuring  of  the  fire,  and  watches  the  glowing  and 
fading  of  the  embers,  and  feels  the  comfort  of 
the  hour  pervading  his  mortal  frame,  what 
bliss ! 

But  yonder  sits  a  man  who  scorns  the  pipe  — 
and  why  ?  He  is  a  chewer  of  the  weed.  To 
him,  the  sweetness  of  it  seems  not  to  be  drawn 
out  by  the  fiery  test,  but  rather  by  the  persua 
sion  of  moisture  and  pressure.  But  he,  too,  is 
under  the  spell.  There  are  pictures  in  the  fire 
for  him,  also,  and  he  watches  them  come  and 
go.  Now  draw  near.  Are  not  those  cheerful 
voices  ?  Do  you  not  hear  the  contented  tones 
of  men  sitting  in  a  cosy  home  ?  What  glowing 
hopes  here  leap  out  in  rapid  words  !  No  bitter 
ness  of  hate,  no  revenge,  no  cruel  purpose ;  but 
simply  the  firm  resolve  to  march  in  the  front  of 
their  country's  defenders.  Would  you  hear  a 
song  ?  You  shall,  —  for  even  now  they  sing  : 

"  Aha  !  a  song  for  the  trumpet's  tongue  ! 
For  the  bugle  to  sing  before  us, 
When  our  gleaming  guns,  like  clarions, 
Shall  thunder  in  battle  chorus  !  " 

Would  you  hear  a  soldier's  prayer?  Well, 
there  kneels  one,  behind  that  tree,  but  he  talks 
with  God  :  you  may  not  hear  him  —  nor  I ! 

But  now,  there  they  go,  one  by  one;  no,  two 
by  two.  Down  goes  an  old  rubber  blanket, 
and  then  a  good,  thick,  woolen  one,  probably 


COMFORTS,    CONVENIENCES,    CONSOLATIONS.      77 

with  a  big  "  U.  S."  in  the  centre  of  it.  Down 
go  two  men.  They  are  hidden  under  another 
of  the  "  U.  S."  blankets.  They  are  resting 
their  heads  on  their  old  battered  haversacks. 
They  love  each  other  to  the  death,  those  men, 
and  sleep  there,  like  little  children,  locked  in 
close  embrace.  They  are  asleep  now,  —  no,  not 
quite  ;  they  are  thinking  of  home,  and  it  may 
be,  of  heaven.  But  now,  surely  they  are 
asleep !  No,  they  are  not  quite  asleep,  they 
are  falling  off  to  sleep.  Happy  soldiers,  they 
are  asleep. 

At  early  dawn  the  bugle  sounds  the  reveille. 
Shout  answers  to  shout,  the  roll  is  called  and 
the  day  begins.  What  new  joys  will  it  bring  ? 
Let  us  stay  and  see. 

The  sun  gladdens  the  landscape ;  the  fresh 
air,  dashing  and  whirling  over  the  fields  and 
through  the  pines  is  almost  intoxicating.  Here 
are  noble  chestnut-oaks,  ready  for  the  axe  and 
the  fire ;  and  there,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
a  mossy  spring.  The  oven  sits  enthroned  on 
glowing  coals,  crowned  with  fire ;  the  coffee 
boils,  the  meat  fries,  the  soldier  —  smiles  and 
waits. 

But  waiting  is  so  very  trying  that  some, 
seizing  towels,  soap,  and  comb  from  their  hav 
ersacks,  step  briskly  down  the  hill,  and  plunge 
their  heads  into  the  cool  water  of  the  brook. 


78  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

Then  their  cheeks  glow  with  rich  color,  and, 
chatting  merrily,  they  seek  again  the  fire,  car 
rying  the  old  bucket  brimming  full  of  water 
for  the  mess.  All  hands  welcome  the  bucket, 
and  breakfast  begins.  Now  see  the  value  of  a 
good  tin-plate.  What  a  treasure  that  tin  cup 
is,  and  that  old  fork !  Who  would  have  a  more 
comfortable  seat  than  that  log  affords  ! 

But  here  comes  the  mail,  —  papers,  letters, 
packages.  Here  comes  news  from  home,  sweet, 
tender,  tearful,  hopeful,  sad,  distressing  news; 
joyful  news  of  victory  and  sad  news  of  defeat ; 
pictures  of  happy  homes,  or  sad  wailing  over 
homes  destroyed  !  But  the  mail  has  arrived  and 
we  cannot  change  the  burden  it  has  brought. 
We  can  only  pity  the  man  who  goes  empty 
away  from  the  little  group  assembled  about  the 
mail-bag,  and  rejoice  with  him  who  strolls  away 
with  a  letter  near  his  heart.  Suppose  he  finds 
therein  the  picture  of  a  curly  head.  Just  four 
years  old !  Suppose  the  last  word  in  it  is 
44  Mother."  Or  suppose  it  concludes  with  a 
signature  having  that  peculiarly  helpless,  but 
courageous  and  hopeful  air,  which  can  be  im 
parted  only  by  the  hand  of  a  girl  whose  heart 
goes  with  the  letter !  Once  more,  happy,  happy 
soldier ! 

The  artilleryman  tarrying  for  a  day  only  in 
a  camp  had  'only  time  to  eat  and  do  his  work. 


COMFORTS,   CONVENIENCES,   CONSOLATIONS.      79 

Roll-call,  drill,  watering  the  horses,  greasing 
caissons  and  gun-carriages  ;  cleaning,  repairing, 
arid  greasing  harness ;  cleaning  the  chests  of  the 
limbers  and  caissons  ;  storing  and  arranging  am 
munition  ;  and  man y  little,  duties,  filled  the  day. 
In  the  midst  of  a  campaign,  comfortable  arrange 
ments  for  staying  were  hardly  completed  by  the 
time  the  bugle  sounded  the  assembly  and  orders 
to  move  were  given.  But  however  short  the 
stay  might  be,  the  departure  always  partook  of 
the  nature  of  a  move  from  home.  More  espe 
cially  was  this  true  in  the  case  of  the  sick  man, 
whose  weary  body  was  finding  needed  rest  in 
the  camp ;  and  peculiarly  true  of  the  man  who 
had  fed  at  the  table  of  a  hospitable  neighbor, 
and  for  a  day,  perhaps,  enjoyed  the  society  of 
the  fair  daughters  of  the  house. 

Orders  to  move  were  frequently  heralded  by 
the  presence  of  the  "  courier,"  a  man  who  rarely 
knew  a  word  of  the  orders  he  had  brought  ;  who 
was  always  besieged  with  innumerable  questions, 
always  tried  to  appear  to  know  more  than  his 
position  allowed  him  to  disclose,  and  who  never 
ceased  to  be  an  object  of  interest  to  every  camp 
he  entered.  Many  a  gallant  fellow  rode  the 
country  over  ;  many  a  one  led  in  the  thickest  of 
the  fight  and  died  bravely,  known  only  as  "  my 
courier." 

When  the  leaves  began  to  fall  and  the  wind 


80  SOLDIER   LTFE. 

to  rash  in  furious  frolics  through  the  woods, 
the  soldier's  heart  yearned  for  comfort.  Chill 
ing  rains,  cutting  sleet,  drifting  snow,  muddy 
roads,  all  the  miseries  of  approaching  winter, 
pressed  him  to  ask  and  repeat  the  question, 
"  When  will  we  go  into  winter  quarters  ?  " 

After  all,  the  time  did  come.  But  first  the 
place  was  known.  The  time  was  always  doubt 
ful.  Leisurely  and  steady  movement  towards 
the  place  might  be  called  the  first  "  comfort" 
of  winter  quarters;  and  as  each  day's  march 
brought  the  column  nearer  the  appointed  camp, 
the  anticipated  pleasures  assumed  almost  the 
sweetness  of  present  enjoyment. 

But  at  last  comes  the  welcome  "Left  into 
park !  "  and  the  fence  goes  down,  the  first  piece 
wheels  through  the  gap,  the  battery  is  parked, 
the  horses  are  turned  over  to  the  "  horse  ser 
geant,"  the  old  guns  are  snugly  stowed  under 
the  tarpaulins,  and  the  winter  has  commenced. 
The  woods  soon  resound  with  the  ring  of  the 
axe;  trees  rush  down,  crashing  and  snapping,  to 
the  ground  ;  fires  start  here  and  there  till  the 
woods  are  illuminated,  and  the  brightest,  hap 
piest,  busiest  night  of  all  the  year  falls  upon  the 
camp.  Now  around  each  fire  gathers  the  little 
group  who  are,  for  a  while,  to  make  it  the  centre 
of  operations.  Hasty  plans  for  comfort  and  con 
venience  are  eagerly  discussed  till  late  into  the 


COMFORTS,   CONVENIENCES,    CONSOLATIONS.      81 

night,  and  await  only  the  dawn  of  another  day 
for  execution. 

Roll-call  over  and  breakfast  eaten,  the  work 
of  the  day  commences  with  the  preparation  of 
comfortable  sleeping  places,  varying  according 
to  the  "  material  "  on  hand.  A  favorite  ar 
rangement  for  two  men  consisted  of  a  bed  of 
clean  straw  between  the  halves  of  a  large  oak 
log,  covered,  in  the  event  of  rain,  with  a  rubber 
blanket.  The  more  ambitious  builders  made 
straw  pens,  several  logs  high,  and  pitched  over 
these  a  fly-tent,  adding  sometimes  a  chimney. 
In  this  structure,  by  the  aid  of  a  bountiful  sup 
ply  of  dry,  clean  straw,  and  their  blankets,  the 
occupants  bade  defiance  to  cold,  rain,  and  snow. 

Other  men,  gifted  with  that  strange  facility 
for  comfort  without  work  which  characterizes 
some  people,  found  resting-places  ready  made. 
They  managed  to  steal  away  night  after  night 
and  sleep  in  the  sweet  security  of  a  haystack, 
a  barn,  a  stable,  a  porch,  or,  if  fortune  favored 
them,  in  some  farmer's  feather  bed. 

Others  still,  but  more  especially  the  infantry 
and  cavalry,  built  "  shelters  "  open  to  the  south, 
covered  them  with  pine-tags  and  brush,  built  a 
huge  fire  in  front,  and  made  themselves  at  home 
for  a  season. 

But  all  these  things  were  mere  make-shifts, 
temporary  stopping-places,  occupying  about  the 


82  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

same  relation  to  winter  quarters  as  the  board 
ing-bouse  does  to  a  happy  and  comfortable  home. 
During  the  occupancy  of  these,  and  while  the 
work  of  building  was  progressing,  the  Confed 
erate  soldier  wrote  many  letters  home.  He  saw 
an  opportunity  for  enjoyment  ahead,  and  tried 
to  improve  it.  His  letters  were  somewhat  after 
the  following  order :  — 

CAMP  NEAR  WILLIAMS'  MILL, 

December  2,  1 864. 

DEAR  FATHER,  —  You  will  no  doubt  be  glad  to 
hear  that  we  are  at  last  in  winter  quarters  !  We  are 
quite  comfortably  fixed,  though  we  arrived  here  only 
two  days  ago.  We  are  working  constantly  on  our 
log  cabins,  and  hope  to  be  in  them  next  week.  We 
are  near  the  —  —  railroad,  and  anything  you  may 

desire  to  send  us  may  be  shipped  to depot.     If 

you  can  possibly  spare  the  money  to  buy  them,  please 
send  at  once  four  pounds  ten-penny  nails ;  one  pair 
wrought  hinges  (for  door)  ;  one  good  axe  ;  two  pairs 
shoes  (one  for  me  and  one  for  J.)  ;  four  pairs  socks 
(two  for  me  and  two  for  J.) ;  five  pounds  Killickinick 
smoking  tobacco ;  one  pound  bi-carb.  soda.  Please 
send  also  two  or  three  old  church  music  books,  and 
any  good  books  you  are  willing  to  part  with  forever. 
Underclothing  of  any  sort,  shirts,  drawers,  socks,  — 
cotton  or  woollen,  —  would  be  very,  very  acceptable, 
as  it  is  much  less  trouble  to  put  on  the  clean  and 
throw  away  the  soiled  clothes  than  to  wash  them. 
Some  coffee,  roasted  and  ground,  with  sugar  to  match, 


COMFORTS,   CONVENIENCES,    CONSOLATIONS.      83 

and  anything  good  to  eat  would  do  to  fill  up.  Do  not 
imagine,  however,  that  we  are  suffering  or  unhappy 
Our  only  concern  is  for  all  at  home ;  and  if  compli 
ance  with  the  above  requests  would  cost  you  the 
slightest  self-denial  at  home,  we  would  rather  with 
draw  them. 

Why  don't and  go  into  the  army  ?    They 

are  old  enough,  hearty  enough,  able  to  provide  them 
selves  with  every  comfort,  and  ought  to  be  here. 

Many  furloughs  will  be  granted  during  the  winter, 
and  we  may  get  home,  some  of  us,  before  another 
month  is  past. 

Love  to  mother,  dear  mother;  and  to  sister,  and 
tell  them  we  are  happy  and  contented.  Write  as  soon 
as  you  can,  and  believe  me,  Your  affectionate  son, 

P.  S.  Don't  forget  the  tobacco.  W. 

And  now  another  night  comes  to  the  soldier, 
inviting  him  to  nestle  in  clean  straw,  under  dry 
blankets,  and  sleep.  To-morrow  he  will  lay  the 
foundation  of  a  village  destined  to  live  till  the 
grass  grows  again.  To  morrow  he  will  be  archi 
tect,  builder,  and  proprietor  of  a  cosy  cabin  in 
the  woods.  Let  him  sleep. 

A  pine  wood  of  heavy  original  growth  fur 
nishes  the  ground  and  the  timber.  Each  com 
pany  is  to  have  two  rows  of  houses,  with  a  street 
between,  and  each  street  is  to  end  on  the  main 
road  to  the  railroad  depot.  The  width  of  the 
street  is  decided  ;  it  is  staked  off ;  each  "  mess  " 


84  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

selects  its  site  for  a  house,  and  the  work  com 
mences. 

The  old  pines  fall  rapidly  under  the  energetic 
strokes  of  the  axes,  which  glide  into  the  hearts 
of  the  trees  with  a  malicious  and  cruel  willing 
ness  ;  the  logs  are  cut  into  lengths,  notched  and 
fitted  one  upon  another,  and  the  structure  begins 
to  rise.  The  builders  stagger  about  here  and 
there,  under  the  weight  of  the  huge  logs,  occa 
sionally  falling  and  rolling  in  the  snow.  They 
shout  and  whistle  and  sing,  and  are  as  merry  as 
children  at  play. 

At  last  the  topmost  log  is  rolled  into  place 
and  the  artistic  work  commences,  —  the  "riv 
ing  "  of  slabs.  Short  logs  of  oak  are  to  be 
split  into  huge  shingles  for  the  roof,  and  tough 
and  tedious  work  it  is.  But  it  is  done ;  the  roof 
is  covered  in,  and  the  house  is  far  enough  ad 
vanced  for  occupancy. 

Now  the  "  bunks,"  which  are  simply  broad 
shelves  one  above  another,  wide  enough  to  ac 
commodate  two  men  "  spoon  fashion,"  are  built. 
Merry  parties  sally  forth  to  seek  the  straw  stack 
of  the  genial  farmer  of  the  period,  and,  return 
ing  heavily  laden  with  sweet  clean  straw,  bestow 
it  in  the  bunks.  Here  they  rest  for  a  night. 

Next  day  the  chimney,  built  like  the  house, 
of  notched  sticks  or  small  logs,  rises  rapidly,  till 
it  reaches  the  apex  of  the  roof  and  is  crowned 
with  a  nail  keg  or  flour  barrel. 


COMFORTS,    CONVENIENCES,    CONSOLATIONS.     85 

Next,  a  pit  is  dug  deep  enough  to  reach  the 
clay ;  water  is  poured  in  and  the  clay  well  mixed, 
and  the  whole  mess  takes  in  hand  the  "  daub 
ing  "  of  the  "chinks."  Every  crack  and  crev 
ice  of  house  and  chimney  receives  attention  at 
the  hands  of  the  builders,  and  when  the  sun 
goes  down  the  house  is  proof  against  the  most 
searching  winter  wind. 

Now  the  most  skillful  man  contrives  a  door 
and  swings  it  on  its  hinges  ;  another  makes  a 
shelf  for  the  old  water  bucket ;  a  short  bench 
or  two  appear,  like  magicians'  work,  before  the 
lire,  and  the  family  is  settled  for  the  winter. 

It  would  be  a  vain  man  indeed  who  thought 
himself  able,  to  describe  the  happy  days  and 
cozy  nights  of  that  camp.  First  among  the 
luxuries  of  settled  life  was  the  opportunity  to 
part  forever  with  a  suit  of  underwear  which 
had  been  on  constant  duty  for,  possibly,  three 
months,  and  put  on  the  sweet  clean  clothes  from 
home.  They  looked  so  pure,  and  the  very  smell 
of  them  was  sweet. 

Then  there  was  the  ever-present  thought  of 
a  dry,  warm,  undisturbed  sleep  the  whole  night 
through.  What  a  comfort ! 

Remember,  now,  there  is  a  pile  of  splendid 
oak,  ready  cut  for  the  fire,  within  easy  reach  of 
the  door  —  several  cords  of  it  —  and  it  is  all 
ours.  Our  mess  cut  it  and  "toted"  it  there. 


86  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

It  will  keep  a  good  fire,  night  and  day,  for  a 
month. 

The  wagons,  which  have  been  "over  the 
mountains  and  far  away,"  have  come  into  camp 
loaded  with  the  best  flour  in  abundance  ;  droves 
of  cattle  are  bellowing  in  the  road,  and  our 
commissary,  as  he  hurries  from  camp  to  camp 
with  the  glad  tidings,  is  the  embodiment  of  hap 
piness.  All  this  means  plenty  to  eat. 

This  is  a  good  time  to  make  and  carve  beau 
tiful  pipes  of  hard  wood  with  horn  mouth-pieces, 
very  comfortable  chairs,  bread  trays,  haversacks, 
and  a  thousand  other  conveniences. 

At  night  the  visiting  commences,  and  soon 
in  many  huts  are  little  social  groups  close  around 
the  fire.  The  various  incidents  of  the  cam 
paign  pass  in  review,  and  pealing  laughter  rings 
out  upon  the  crisp  winter  air.  Then  a  soft, 
sweet  melody  floats  out  of  that  cabin  door  as 
the  favorite  singer  yields  to  the  entreaty  of  his 
little  circle  of  friends  ;  or  a  swelling  chorus  of 
manly  voices,  chanting  a  grand  and  solemn  an 
them,  stirs  every  heart  for  half  a  mile  around. 

Now  think  of  an  old  Confederate  veteran, 
who  passed  through  Fredericksburg,  Chancel- 
lorsville,  and  the  Wilderness,  sitting  in  front  of 
a  cheerful  fire  in  a  snug  log  cabin,  reading,  say, 
"  The  Spectator  !  "  Think  of  another  by  his  side 
reading  a  letter  from  his  sweetheart ;  and  an- 


AN    INNOCENT   VICTIM 


COMFORTS,    CONVENIENCES,    CONSOLATIONS.       87 

other  still,  a  warm  and  yearning  letter  from  his 
mother.  Think  of  two  others  in  the  corner 
playing  "  old  sledge,"  or,  it  may  be,  chess, 
Hear  another,  uoff  guard,"  snoring  in  his  bunk. 
Ah  !  what  an  amount  of  condensed  content 
ment  that  little  hut  contains. 

And  now  the  stables  are  finished.  The  whole 
battalion  did  the  work,  and  the  poor  old  shiver 
ing  and  groaning  horses  are  under  cover.  And 
the  guard-house,  another  joint  production,  opens 
wide  its  door  every  day  to  receive  the  unhappy 
men  whose  time  for  detail  has  at  last  arrived. 
The  chapel,  an  afterthought,  is  also  ready  for 
use,  having  been  duly  dedicated  to  the  worship 
of  God.  The  town  is  complete  and  its  citizens 
are  happy. 

Men  thus  comfortably  fixed,  with  light  guard 
duty  and  little  else  to  do,  found  time,  of  course, 
to  do  a  little  foraging  in  the  country  around. 
By  this  means  often  during  the  winter  the 
camp  enjoyed  great  abundance  and  variety  of 
food.  Apples  and  apple-butter,  fresh  pork, 
dried  fruit,  milk,  eggs,  risen  bread,  and  even 
cakes  and  preserves.  Occasionally  a  whole  mess 
would  be  filled  with  the  liveliest  expectations  by 
the  information  that  "  Bob  "  or  "  Joe  "  was  ex 
pecting  a  box  from  home.  The  wagon  comes 
into  camp  escorted  by  the  expectant  "  Bob  " 
and  several  of  his  intimate  friends ;  the  box  is 


88  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

dropped  from  the  wagon  to  the  ground  ;  off  goes 
the  top  and  in  go  busy  hands  and  eyes.  Here 
are  clothes,  shoes,  and  hats ;  here  is  coffee, 
sugar,  soda,  salt,  bread,  fresh  butter,  roast  beef, 
and  turkey;  here  is  a  bottle!  marked  "to  be 
used  in  case  of  sickness  or  wounds."  Here  is 
paper,  ink,  pen  and  pencil.  What  shall  be  done 
with  this  pile  of  treasure?  It  is  evident  one 
man  cannot  eat  the  eatables  or  smoke  the  to 
bacco  and  pipes.  Call  in,  then,  the  friendly 
aid  of  willing  comrades.  They  come ;  they 
see  ;  they  devour ! 

And  now  the  ever  true  and  devoted  citizens 
of  the  much  and  often  besieged  city  of  Rich 
mond  conclude  to  send  a  New  Year's  dinner  to 
their  defenders  in  the  army.  That  portion  des 
tined  for  the  camp  above  described  arrived  indue 
time  in  the  shape  of  one  good  turkey.  Each  of 
the  three  companies  composing  the  battalion  ap 
pointed  a  man  to  "  draw  straws  "  for  the  tur 
key  ;  the  successful  company  appointed  a  man 
from  each  detachment  to  draw  again  ;  then  the 
detachment  messes  took  a  draw,  and  the  fortu 
nate  mess  devoured  the  turkey.  But  the  sol 
diers,  remembering  that  in  times  past  they  had 
felt  constrained  to  divide  their  rations  with  the 
poor  of  that  city,  did  'not  fail  in  gratitude,  or 
question  the  liberality  of  those  who  had,  in 
the  midst  of  great  distress,  remembered  with 
self-denying  affection  the  soldiers  in  the  field. 


COMFORTS,    CONVENIENCES,    CONSOLATIONS.      89 

Not  the  least  among  the  comforts  of  life  in 
winter  quarters,  was  the  pleasure  of  sitting  un 
der  the  ministrations  of  an  amateur  barber,  and 
hearing  the  snip,  snip,  of  his  scissors,  as  the 
long  growth  of  hair  fell  to  the  ground.  The 
luxury  of  "  a  shave  ; "  the  possession  of  comb, 
brush,  small  mirror,  towels  and  soap ;  boots 
blacked  every  day  ;  white  collars,  and  occasion 
ally  a  starched  bosom,  called,  in  the  expressive 
language  of  the  day,  a  "  biled  shirt"  completed 
the  restoration  of  the  man  to  decency.  Now, 
also,  the  soldier  with  painful  care  threaded  his 
needle  with  huge  thread,  aiid  with  a  sort  of  left- 
handed  awkwardness  sewed  on  the  long-absent 
button,  or,  with  even  greater  trepidation,  at 
tempted  a  patch.  At  such  a  time  the  soldier 
pondered  on  the  peculiar  fact  that  war  separates 
men  from  women.  A  man  cannot  thread  a 
needle  with  ease ;  certainly  not  with  grace.  He 
sews  backwards. 

In  winter  quarters  every  man  had  his  "  chum  " 
or  bunk-mate,  with  whom  he  slept,  walked, 
talked,  and  divided  hardship  or  comfort  as  they 
came  along  ;  and  the  affectionate  regard  of  each 
for  the  other  was  often  beautiful  to  see.  Many 
such  attachments  led  to  heroic  self-denials  and 
death,  one  for  the  other,  and  many  such  unions 
remain  unbroken  after  twenty  years  have  passed 
away. 


90  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

It  was  a  rare  occurrence,  but  occasionally  the 
father  or  mother  or  brother  or  sister  of  some  man 
paid  him  a  visit.  The  males  were  almost  sure 
to  be  very  old  or  very  young.  In  either  case 
they  were  received  with  great  hospitality,  given 
the  best  place  to  sleep,  the  best  the  camp  af 
forded  in  the  way  of  eatables,  and  treated  with 
the  greatest  courtesy  and  kindness  by  the  whole 
command.  But  the  lady  visitors!  the  girls! 
Who  could  describe  the  effect  of  their  appear, 
mice  in  camp  !  They  produced  conflict  in  the  sol 
dier's  breast.  They  looked  so  clean,  they  were 
so  gentle,  they  were  so  different  from  all  around 
them,  they  were  so  attractive,  they  were  so 
agreeable,  and  sweet,  and  fresh,  and  happy,  that 
the  poor  fellows  would  have  liked  above  all 
things  to  have  gotten  very  near  to  them  and 
have  heard  their  kind  words,  —  possibly  shake 
hands ;  but  no,  some  were  barefooted,  some 
almost  bareheaded  ;  some  were  still  expecting 
clean  clothes  from  home;  some  were  sick  and 
disheartened;  some  were  on  guard;  some  in 
the  guard-house,  and  others  too  modest ;  and 
so,  to  many,  the  innocent  visitor  became  a  sort 
of  pleasant  agony  ;  as  it  were,  a  "  bitter  sweet.*' 
Nothing  ever  so  promptly  convinced  a  Confed 
erate  soldier  that  he  was  dilapidated  and  not 
altogether  as  neat  as  he  might  be,  as  sudden  pre 
cipitation  into  the  presence  of  a  neatly  dressed, 


COMFORTS,    CONVENIENCES,   CONSOLATIONS.      91 

refined,  ami  modest  woman.  Fortunately  for 
the  men,  the  women  loved  the  very  rags  they 
wore,  if  they  were  gray ;  and  when  the  war 
ended,  they  welcomed  with  open  arms  and 
hearts  full  of  love  the  man  and  his  rags. 


l  M   CAMP 


Preaching  in  camp  was  to  many  a  great  pleas 
ure  and  greatly  profitable.  At  times  intense 
religious  interest  pervaded  the  whole  army,  and 
thousands  of  men  gladly  heard  the  tidings  of 
salvation.  Many  afterwards  died  triumphant, 
and  many  others  are  yet  living,  daily  witnesses 
of  the  great  change  wrought  in  them  by  the 
preaching  of  the  faithful  and  able  men  who,  as 
chaplains,  shared  the  dangers,  hardships,  and 
pleasures  of  the  campaign. 

To  all  the   foregoing  comforts  and  conven- 


92  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

iences  must  be  added  the  consolation  afforded  by 
the  anticipation  and  daily  expectation  of  a  fur 
lough  ;  which  meant,  of  course,  a  blissful  re 
union  with  the  dear  ones  at  home,  —  perhaps 
an  interview  or  two  with  that  historic  maid  who 
is  "  left  behind "  by  the  soldier  of  all  times 
and  lands ;  plenty  to  eat  ;  general  admiration 
of  friends  and  relatives  ;  invitations  to  dine,  to 
spend  a  week ;  and  last,  but  not  least,  an  op 
portunity  to  express  contempt  for  every  able- 
bodied  "bomb-proof"  found  sneaking  about 
home.  Food,  shelter,  and  rest,  the  great  con 
cerns,  being  thus  all  provided  for,  the  soldier  en 
joyed  intensely  his  freedom  from  care  and  re 
sponsibility,  living,  as  near  as  a  man  may,  the 
innocent  life  of  a  child.  He  played  marbles, 
spun  his  top,  played  at  foot-ball,  bandy,  and 
hop-scotch ;  slept  quietly,  rose  early,  had  a  good 
appetite,  and  was  happy.  He  had  time  now 
comfortably  to  review  the  toils,  dangers,  and 
hardships  of  the  past  campaign,  and  with  allow 
able  pride  to  dwell  on  the  cheerfulness  and 
courage  with  which  he  had  endured  them  all ; 
and  to  feel  the  supporting  effect  of  the  unanim 
ity  of  feeling  and  pervasive  sympathy  which 
linked  together  the  rank  and  file  of  the  army. 
Leaving  out  of  view  every  other  consideration, 
he  realized  with  exquisite  delight,  that  he  was 
resisting  manfully  the  coercive  force  of  other 


COMFORTS,   CONVENIENCES,   CONSOLATIONS.      93 

men,  and  was  resolved  to  die  rather  than  yield 
his  liberty.  He  felt  that  he  was  beyond  doubt 
in  the  line  of  duty,  and  expected  no  relief 
from  toil  by  any  other  means  than  the  accom 
plishment  of  his  purpose  and  the  end  of  the 
war.  To  strengthen  his  resolve  he  had  ever  pres 
ent  with  him  the  unchanging  love  of  the  people 
for  whom  he  fought ;  the  respect  and  confidence 
of  his  officers  ;  unshaken  faith  in  the  valor  of  his 
comrades  and  the  justice  of  his  cause.  And, 
finally,  he  had  an  opportunity  to  brace  himself 
for  another,  and,  if  need  be,  for  still  another 
struggle,  with  the  ever  increasing  multitude  of 
invaders,  hoping  that  each  would  usher  in  the 
peace  so  eagerly  coveted  and  the  liberty  for 
which  already  a  great  price  had  been  paid.  Was 
he  not  badly  disappointed  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 
FUN   AND  FUKY   ON   THE  FIELD. 

A  BATTLE-FIELD,  when  only  a  few  thousands 
of  men  are  engaged,  is  a  more  extensive  area  than 
most  persons  would  suppose.  When  large  bod 
ies  of  men  —  twenty  to  fifty  thousand  on  each 
side  —  are  engaged,  a  mounted  man,  at  liberty 
to  gallop  from  place  to  place,,  could  scarcely 
travel  the  field  over  during  the  continuance  of 
the  battle  ;  and  a  private  soldier,  in  the  small 
est  affair,  sees  very  little  indeed  of  the  field. 
What  occurs  in  his  own  regiment,  or  probably 
in  his  own  company,  is  about  all,  and  is  some 
times  more  than  he  actually  sees  or  knows. 
Thus  it  is  that,  while  the  field  is  extensive,  it  is 
tq  each  individual  limited  to  the  narrow  space 
of  which  he  is  cognizant. 

The  dense  woods  of  Virginia,  often  choked 
with  heavy  undergrowth,  added  greatly  to  the 
difficulty  of  observing  the  movements  of  large 
bodies  of  troops  extended  in  line  of  battle.  The 
commanders  were  compelled  to  rely  almost  en 
tirely  upon  the  information  gained  from  their 
staff  officers  and  the  couriers  of  those  in  imme 
diate  command  on  the  lines. 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.       95 

The  beasts  of  burden  which  travel  the  Great 
Desert  scent  the  oasis  and  the  well  miles  away, 
and,  cheered  by  the  prospect  of  rest  and  refresh 
ment,  press  on  with  renewed  vigor  ;  and  in  the 
book  of  Job  it  is  said  of  the  horse,  "  He  saitli 
among  the  trumpets,  Ha!  ha!  and  he  smelleth 
the  battle  afar  off,  the  thunder  of  the  captains, 
and  the  shoutings."  So  a  soldier,  weary  and 
worn,  recognizing  the  signs  of  approaching  bat 
tle,  did  quicken  his  lagging  steps  and  cry  out 
for  joy.  at  the  prospect. 

The  column,  hitherto  moving  forward  with 
the  steadiness  of  a  mighty  river,  hesitates, 
halts,  steps  back,  then  forward,  hesitates  again, 
halts.  The  colonels  talk  to  the  brigadier,  the 
brigadiers  talk  to  the  major  general,  some  offi 
cers  hurry  forward  and  others  hurry  to  the  rear. 
Infantry  stands  to  one  side  of  the  road  while 
cavalry  trots  by  to  the  front.  Now  some  old 
wagons  marked  "  Ord.  Dept."  go  creaking  and 
rumbling  by.  One  or  two  light  ambulances, 
with  a  gay  and  careless  air,  seem  to  trip  along 
with  the  ease  of  a  dancing-girl.  They  and  the 
surgeons  seem  cheerful.  Some,  not  many, 
ask  "  What  is  the  matter?  "  Most  of  the  men 
there  know  exactly  :  they  are  on  the  edge  of 
battle. 

Presently  a  very  quiet,  almost  .sleepy  looking 
man  on  horseback,  says,  "  Forward,  19th !  "  and 
8 


96 


SOLDIER    LIFE. 


away  goes  the  leading  regiment.  A  little  way 
ahead  the  regiment  jumps  a  fence,  and — pop  ! 
bang !  whiz !  thud  !  is  all  that  can  be  heard, 
until  the  rebel  yell  reverberates  through  the 
woods.  Battle  ?  No  !  skirmishers  advancing. 
Step  into  the  woods  now  and  watch  these 
skirmishers.  See  how  cheerfully  they  go  in. 
How  rapidly  they  load,  fire,  and  re-load.  They 
stand  six  and  twelve  feet  apart,  calling  to  each 


-G'O  I  N  G  1  N 


other,  laughing,  shouting  and  cheering,  but  ad 
vancing.  There  :  one  fellow  has  dropped  his 
musket  like  something  red  hot.  His  ringer  is 
shot  away.  His  friends  congratulate  him,  and 
he  walks  sadly  away  to  the  rear.  Another 
staggers  and  falls  with  a  ball  through  his  neck, 
mortally  wounded.  Two  comrades  raise  him  to 
his  feet  and  try  to  lead  him  away,  but  one  of 
them  receives  a  ball  in  his  thigh  which  crushes 
the  bone,  and  he  falls  groaning  to  the  ground. 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.       97 

The  other  advises  his  poor  dying  friend  to  lie 
down,  helps  him  to  do  so,  and  runs  to  join  his 
advancing  comrades.  When  he  overtakes  them 
he  finds  every  man  securely  posted  behind  a 
tree,  loading,  firing,  and  conducting  himself  gen 
erally  with  great  deliberation  and  prudence. 
They  have  at  last  driven  the  enemy's  skirmish 
ers  in  upon  the  line  of  battle,  and  are  waiting. 
A  score  of  men  have  fallen  here,  some  killed 
outright,  some  slightly,  some  sorely,  and  some 
mortally  wounded.  The  elements  now  add  to 
the  horrors  of  the  hour.  Dense  clouds  hover 
ing  near  the  tree  tops  add  deeper  shadows  to 
the  woods.  Thunder,  deep  and  ominous,  rolls 
in  prolonged  peals  across  the  sky,  and  lurid 
lightning  darts  among  the  trees  and  glistens 
on  the  gun  barrels.  But  still  they  stand. 

Now  a  battery  has  been  hurried  into  position, 
the  heavy  trails  have  fallen  to  the  ground,  and 
at  the  command  "  Commence  firing !  "  the  can- 
noniers  have  stepped  in  briskly  and  loaded. 
The  first  gun  blazes  at  the  muzzle  and  away 
goes  a  shell.  The  poor  fellows  in  the  woods  re 
joice  as  it  crashes  through  the  trees  over  their 
heads,  and  cheer  when  it  explodes  over  the 
enemy's  line.  Now,  what  a  chorus !  Thunder, 
gun  after  gun,  shell  after  shell,  musketry,  pelt 
ing  rain,  shouts,  groans,  cheers,  and  commands  ! 

But  help  is  coming.      At  the  edge  of    the 


98  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

woods,  where  the  skirmishers  entered,  the  brig 
ade  is  in  line.  Somebody  has  ordered,  "  Load !  " 

The  ramrods  glisten  and  rattle  down  the  bar 
rels  of  a  thousand  muskets.  "  F-o-o-o-o  r-r-r-r- 
w-a-a-a-r-r-r-d  !  "  is  the  next  command,  and  the 
brigade,  disappears  in  the  woods,  the  canteens 
rattling,  the  bushes  crackling,  and  the  officers 
never  ceasing  to  say,  "  Close  up,  men  ;  close  up  ! 
guide  c-e-n-t-r-r-r-r-e  !  " 

The  men  on  that  skirmish  line  have  at  last 
found  it  advisable  to  lie  down  at  full  length  on 
the  ground,  though  it  is  so  wet,  and  place  their 
heads  against  the  trees  in  front.  They  cannot 
advance  and  they  cannot  retire  without,  in 
either  case,  exposing  themselves  to  almost  cer 
tain  death.  They  are  waiting  for  the  line  of 
battle  to  come  to  their  relief. 

At  last,  before  they  see,  they  hear  the  line 
advancing  through  the  pines.  The  snapping  of 
the  twigs,  the  neighing  of  horses,  and  hoarse 
commands,  inspire  a  husky  cheer,  and  when  the 
line  of  the  old  brigade  breaks  through  the  trees 
in  full  view,  they  fairly  yell !  Every  man 
jumps  to  his  feet,  the  brigade  presses  firmly  for 
ward,  and  soon  the  roll  of  musketry  tells  all 
who  are  waiting  to  hear  that  serious  work  is 
progressing  away  down  in  the  woods.  All 
honor  to  the  devoted  infantry.  The  hour  of 
glory  has  arrived  for  couriers,  aides-de-camp, 


EXTENDING   THE    REAR. 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.       99 

and  staff  officers  generally.  They  dash  about 
from  place  to  place  like  spirits  of  unrest.  Brig 
ade  after  brigade  and  division  after  division  is 
hurried  into  line,  and  pressed  forward  into  ac 
tion.  Battalions  of  artillery  open  fire  from  the 
crests  of  many  hills,  and  the  battle  is  begun. 

Ammunition  trains  climb  impassable  places, 
cross  ditches  without  bridges,  and  manage  some 
how  to  place  themselves  in  reach  of  the  troops. 
Ambulances,  which  an  hour  before  went  gayly 
forward,  now  slowly  and  solemnly  return  load 
ed.  Shells  and  musket  balls  which  must  have 
lost  their  way,  go  flitting  about  here  and  there, 
wounding  and  killing  men  who  deem  themselves 
far  away  from  danger.  The  negro  cooks  turn 
pale  as  these  unexpected  visitors  enter  the 
camps  at  the  rear,  and  the  rear  is  "  extended  " 
at  once. 

But  our  place  now  is  at  the  front,  on  the 
field.  We  are  to  watch  the  details  of  a  small 
part  of  the  great  expanse.  As  we  approach,  a 
ludicrous  scene  presents  itself.  A  strong-armed 
artilleryman  is  energetically  thrashing  a  dejected 
looking  individual  with  a  hickory  bush,  and 
urging  him  to  the  front.  He  has  managed  to 
keep  out  of  many  a  fight,  but  now  he  must  go 
in.  The  captain  has  detailed  a  man  to  whip 
him  in,  and  the  man  is  doing  it.  With  every 
blow  the  poor  fellow  yells  and  begs  to  be  spared, 


100  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

but  his  determined  guardian  will  not  cease. 
They  press  on,  the  one  screaming  and  the  other 
lashing,  till  they  reach  the  battery  in  position 
and  firing  on  the  retiring  enemy.  A  battery  of 
the  enemy  is  replying,  and  shells  are  bursting 
overhead,  or  ploughing  huge  furrows  in  the 
ground.  Musket  balls  are  " rapping"  on  the 
rims  of  the  wheels  and  sinking  with  a  deep 
''thud1'  into  the  bodies  of  the  poor  horses. 
Smoke  obscures  the  scene,  but  the  cannoniers 
in  faint  outline  can  be  seen  cheerfully  serving 
the  guns. 

As  the  opposing  battery  ceases  firing,  and 
having  limbered  up,  scampers  away,  and  the 
last  of  the  enemy's  infantry  slowly  sinks  into 
the  woods  out  of  sight  and  out  of  reach,  a  wild 
cheer  breaks  from  the  cannoniers,  who  toss 
their  caps  in  the  air  and  shout,  shake  hands  and 
shout  again,  while  the  curtain  of  smoke  is 
raised  by  the  breeze  and  borne  away. 

The  cavalry  is  gone.  With  jingle  and  clatter 
they  have  passed  through  the  lines  and  down 
the  hill,  and  are  already  demanding  surrender 
from  many  a  belated  man.  There  will  be  no 
rest  for  that  retreating  column.  Stuart,  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  his  lips  puckered  as  if  to 
whistle  a  merry  lay,  is  on  their  flanks,  in  their 
rear,  and  in  their  front.  The  enemy  will  send 
their  cavalry  after  him,  of  course,  but  he  will 
stay  with  them,  nevertheless. 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  PLKLO. 


-101 


Add  now  the  stream  of  wounded  men  slowly 
making  their  way  to  the  rear  ;  the  groups  of 


dejected  prisoners  plodding  along  under  guard, 
and  you  have  about  as  much  of  a  battle  as  one 
private  soldier  ever  sees. 


COMIN 
But  after  the  battle,  man   will  tell  to   man 


102 


SOLDIER    LIFE. 


what  each  has  seen  and  felt,  until  every  man 
will  feel  that  he  has  seen  the  whole.  Hear, 
then,  the  stories  of  battle. 

An  artilleryman  — he  must  have  been  a  driver 
—  says  :  when  the  firing  had  ceased  an  old  bat 
tery  horse,  his  lower  jaw  carried  away  by  a  shot, 
with  blood  streaming  from  his  wound,  staggered 
up  to  him,  gazed  beseechingly  at  him,  and, 
groaning  piteously,  laid  his  bloody  jaws  on  his 
shoulder,  and  so  made  his  appeal  for  sympathy. 
He  was  beyond  help. 

The  pathetic  nature  of  this  story  reminds  a 
comrade  that  a  new  man  in  the  battery,  desir 
ing  to  save  the  labor  incident  to  running  up  the 
gun  after  the  rebound,  determined  to  hold  on  to 
the  handspike,  press  the  trail  into  the  ground, 
and  hold  her  fast.  He  did  try,  but  the  rebound 
proceeded  as  usual,  and  the  labor-saving  man 
was  "  shocked  "  at  the  failure  of  his  effort.  Noth 
ing  daunted,  the  same  individual  soon  after  ap 
plied  his  lips  to  the  vent  of  the  gun,  which  was 
choked,  and  endeavored  to  clear  it  by  an  ener 
getic  blast  from  his  lungs.  The  vent  was  not 
cleared  but  the  lips  of  the  recruit  were  nicely 
browned,  and  the  detachment  greatly  amused. 

At  another  gun  it  has  happened  that  No.  1 
and  No.  3  have  had  a  difficulty.  No.  3  having 
failed  to  serve  the  vent,  there  was  a  premature 
explosion,  and  No.  1,  being  about  to  withdraw 


FUN   AND   FURY   ON   THE   FIELD.  103 

the  rammer,  fell  heavily  to  the  ground,  appar 
ently  dead.  No.  8,  seeing  what  a  calamity  he 
had  caused,  hung  over  the  dead  man  and  begged 
him  to  speak  and  exonerate  him  from  blame. 
After  No.  3  had  exhausted  all  his  eloquence  and 
pathos,  No.  1  suddenly  rose  to  his  feet  and  in 
formed  him  that  the  premature  explosion  was 
a  fact,  but  the  death  of  No.  1  was  a  joke  in 
tended  to  warn  him  that  if  he  ever  failed  again 
to  serve  that  vent,  he  would  have  his  head 
broken  by  a  blow  from  a  rammer-head.  This 
joke  having  been  completed  in  all  its  details, 
the  firing  was  continued. 

Another  man  tells  how  Eggleston  had  his 
arm  torn  away  by  a  solid  shot,  and,  as  he  walked 
away,  held  up  the  bleeding,  quivering  stump, 
exclaiming,  "  Never  mind,  boys  ;  I  '11  come  back 
soon  and  try  'em  with  this  other  one."  Alas  ! 
poor  fellow,  he  had  fought  his  last  fight. 

Poor  Tom,  he  who  was  always,  as  he  said, 
"  willing  to  give  'em  half  a  leg,  or  so,"  was 
struck  about  the  waist  by  a  shot  which  almost 
cut  him  in  two.  He  fell  heavily  to  the  ground, 
and,  though  in  awful  agony,  managed  to  say  : 
"  Tell  mother  I  died  doing  my  duty." 

While  the  fight  lasted,  several  of  the  best 
and  bravest  received  wounds  apparently  mortal, 
and  were  laid  aside  covered  by  an  old  army  blan 
ket.  They  refused  to  die,  however,  and  remain 


104  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

to  this  clay  to  tell  their  own  stories  of  the  war 
and  of  their  marvelous  recovery. 

At  the  battle  of  the  Wilderness,  May,  1864, 
a  man  from  North  Carolina  precipitated  a  se 
vere  fight  by  asking  a  very  simple  and  reason 
able  question.  The  line  of  battle  had  been 
pressed  forward  and  was  in  close  proximity  to 
the  enemy.  The  thick  and  tangled  undergrowth 
prevented  a  sight  of  the  enemy,  but  every  man 
felt  he  was  near.  Everything  was  hushed  and 
still.  No  one  dared  to  speak  above  a  whisper. 
It  was  evening,  and  growing  dark.  As  the  men 
lay  on  the  ground,  keenly  sensible  to  every 
sound,  and  anxiously  waiting,  they  heard  the 
firm  tread  of  a  man  walking  along  the  line.  As 
he,  walked  they  heard  also  the  jingle-jangle  of  a 
pile  of  canteens  hung  around  his  neck.  He  ad 
vanced  with  deliberate  mien  to  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  line  and  opened  a  terrific  fight  by 
quietly  saying,  "Can  any  you  fellows  tell  a 
man  whar  he  can  git  some  water  ?  "  Instantly 
the  thicket  was  illumined  by  the  flash  of  a  thou 
sand  muskets,  the  men  leaped  to  their  feet,  the 
officers  shouted,  and  the  battle  was  begun. 
Neither  side  would  yield,  and  there  they  fought 
till  many  died. 

Soon,  however,  the  reserve  brigade  began  to 
make  its  way  through  the  thicket.  The  first 
man  to  appear  was  the  brigadier,  thirty  yards 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD. 


105 


ahead  of  his  brigade,  his  sword  between  his 
teeth,  and  parting  the  bushes  with  both  hands 
as  he  spurred  his  horse  through  the  tangled 
growth.  Eager  for  the  fight,  his  eyes  glaring 
and  his  countenance  lit  up  with  fury,  his  first 
word  was  "  Forward  !  "  and  forward  went  the 
line. 


On  the  march  from  Petersburg  to  Appomat- 
tox,  after  a  sharp  engagement,  some  men  of 
Cutshaw's  artillery  battalion,  acting  as  infantry, 
made  a  stand  for  a  while  on  a  piece  of  high 
ground.  They  noticed,  hanging  around  in  a 


106  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

lonely,  distracted  way,  a  tall,  lean,  shaggy  fel 
low  holding,  or  rather  leaning  on,  a  long  staff, 
around  which  hung  a  faded  battle-flag  Think 
ing  him  out  of  his  place  and  skulking,  they  sug 
gested  to  him  that  it  would  be  well  for  him  to 
join  his  regiment.  He  replied  that  his  regi 
ment  had  all  run  away,  and  he  was  merely 
waiting  a  chance  to  be  useful.  Just  then  the 
enemy's  advancing  skirmishers  poured  a  hot  fire 
into  the  group,  and  the  artillerymen  began  to 
discuss  the  propriety  of  leaving.  The  color- 
bearer,  remembering  their  insinuations,  saw  an 
opportunity  for  retaliation.  Standing,  as  he 
was,  in  the  midst  of  a  shower  of  musket  balls, 
he  seemed  almost  ready  to  fall  asleep.  But 
suddenly  his  face  was  illumined  with  a  singu 
larly  pleased  and  childish  smile.  Quietly  walk 
ing  up  close  to  the  group,  he  said,  "  Any  you 
boys  want  to  charge?"  The  boys  answered, 
"Yes."  "Well,"  said  the  imperturbable,  "I'm 
the  man  to  carry  this  here  old  flag  for  you. 
Just  follow  me."  So  saying  he  led  the  squad 
full  into  the  face  of  the  advancing  enemy,  and 
never  once  seemed  to  think  of  stopping  until  he 
was  urged  to  retire  with  the  squad.  He  came 
back  smiling  from  head  to  foot,  and  suffered 
no  more  insinuations. 

At  Gettysburg,  when  the  artillery  fire  was  at 
its  height,  a  brawny  fellow,  who  seemed  happy 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.      107 

at  the  prospect  for  a  hot  time,  broke  out  sing 
ing:— 

"  Backward,  roll  backward,  O  Time  in  thy  flight : 
Make  me  a  child  again,  just  for  thisjightf" 

Another  fellow  near  him  replied,  "  Yes  ;  and 
a  gal  child  at  that." 

At  Fredericksbtirg  a  good  soldier,  now  a 
farmer  in  Chesterfield  County,  Virginia,  was 
desperately  wounded  and  lay  on  the  field  all 
night.  In  the  morning  a  surgeon  approached 
him  and  inquired  the  nature  of  his  wound. 
Finding  a  wound  which  is  always  considered 
fatal,  he  advised  the  man  to  remain  quietly 
where  he  was  and  die.  The  man  insisted  on 
being  removed  to  a  hospital,  saying  in  the  most 
emphatic  manner,  that  though  every  man  ever 
wounded  as  he  was  (his  bowels  were  punctured 
by  the  ball)  had  died,  he  was  determined  not 
to  die.  The  surgeon,  struck  by  the  man's  cour 
age  and  nerve,  consented  to  remove  him,  ad 
vising  him,  however,  not  to  cherish  the  hope  of 
recovery.  After  a  hard  struggle  he  did  recover, 
and  is  to-day  a  living  example  of  the  power  of 
a  determined  will. 

At  the  Wilderness,  when  the  fight  was  rag 
ing  in  the  tangled  woods  and  a  man  could 
scarcely  trust  himself  to  move  in  any  direction 
for  fear  of  going  astray  or  running  into  the 


108  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

hands  of  the  enemy,  a  mere  boy  was  wounded. 
Rushing  out  of  the  woods,  his  eyes  staring  and 
his  face  pale  with  fright,  he  shouted,  "  Where  's 
tliG  rear.  Mister !  I  say,  Mister  !  where  's  the 
rear?"  Of  course  he  was  laughed  at.  The 
very  grim  fact  that  there  was  no  "  rear,"  in  the 
sense  of  safety,  made  the  question  irresistibly 
ludicrous.  The  conduct  of  this  boy  was  not 
exceptional.  It  was  no  uncommon  thing  to  see 
the  best  men  badly  demoralized  and  eager  to  go 
to  the  rear  because  of  a  wound  scarcely  worthy 
of  the  name.  On  the  other  hand,  it  sometimes 
happened  that  men  seriously  wounded  could 
not  be  convinced  of  their  danger,  and  remained 
on  the  field. 

The  day  General  Stuart  fell,  mortally 
wounded,  there  was  a  severe  fight  in  the 
woods  not  far  from  the  old  Brook  Church,  a  few 
miles  from  Richmond  ;  the  enemy  was  making 
a  determined  stand,  in  order  to  gain  time  to  re 
pair  a  bridge  which  they  were  compelled  to  use, 
and  the  Confederate  infantry  skirmishers  were 
pushing  them  hard.  The  fighting  was  stubborn 
and  the  casualties  on  the  Confederate  side  veiy 
numerous.  In  the  midst  of  the  fight  a  voice  was 
heard  shouting,  "  Where  's  my  boy?  I  'm  look 
ing  for  my  boy!"  Soon  the  owner  of  the  voice 
appeared,  tall,  slim,  aged,  with  silver  gray  hair, 
dressed  in  a  full  suit  of  broadcloth.  A  tall  silk 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.      109 

hat  and  a  clerical  collar  and  cravat  completed 
his  attire.  His  voice,  familiar  to  the  people  of 
Virginia,  was  deep  and  powerful.  As  he  con 
tinued  to  shout,  the  men  replied,  "  Go  back,  old 
gentleman  ;  you  '11  get  hurt  here.  Go  back  ;  go 
back !  "  "  No,  no  ;  "  said  he,  "  I  can  go  any 
where  my  boy  has  to  go,  and  the  Lord  is  here. 
I  want  to  see  my  boy,  and  I  will  see  him  !  " 
Then  the  order,  "  Forward  !  "  was  given  and  the 
men  made  once  more  for  the  enemy.  The  old 
gentleman,  his  beaver  in  one  hand,  a  big  stick 
in  the  other,  his  long  hair  flying,  shouting, 
"  Come  on,  boys !  "  disappeared  in  the  depths  of 
the  woods,  well  in  front.  He  was  a  Methodist 
minister,  an  old  member  of  the  Virginia  Con 
ference,  but  his  carriage  that  day  was  soldierly 
and  grand.  One  thought — that  his  boy  was 
there  —  made  the  old  man  feel  that  he  might 
brave  the  danger,  too.  No  man  who  saw  him 
there  will  ever  forget  the  parson  who  led  the 
charge  at  Brook  Church. 

At  the  battle  of  Spottsylvania  Court  House, 
a  gun  in  position  somewhat  in  advance  of  the 
line  was  so  much  exposed  to  the  enemy's  fire 
that  it  was  abandoned.  Later  in  the  day  the 
battery  being  ordered  to  move,  the  captain  di 
rected  the  sergeant  to  take  his  detachment  and 
bring  in  the  gun.  The  sergeant  and  his  gunner,- 
with  a  number  of  men,  went  out  to  bring  in 
9 


110  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

the  gun  by  hand.  Two  men  lifted  the  trail  and 
the  sergeant  ordered,  "  All  together !  "  The 
gun  moved,  but  moved  in  a  circle.  The  fire 
was  hot,  and  all  hands  were  on  the  same  side  — 
the  side  farthest  from  the  enemy  !  After  some 
persuasion  the  corporal  and  the  sergeant  man 
aged  to  induce  a  man  or  two  to  get  on  the  other 
side,  with  them,  and  they  were  moving  along 
very  comfortably  when  a  shrapnel  whacked 
the  sergeant  on  his  breast,  breaking  his  ribs 
and  tearing  away  the  muscle  of  one  arm.  He 
fell  into  the  arms  of  the  corporal.  Seeing  that 
their  only  hope  of  escaping  from  this  fire  was 
work,  the  cannoniers  bent  to  the  wheels,  and 
the  gun  rolled  slowly  to  shelter. 

It  was  at  Spottsylvania  Court  House  that  the 
Federal  infantry  rushed  over  the  works,  and, 
engaging  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight,  drove  out  the 
Confederate  infantry.  On  one  part  of  the  line 
the  artillerymen  stood  to  their  posts,  and  when 
the  Federal  troops  passing  the  works  had  massed 
themselves  inside,  fired  to  the  right  and  left,  up 
and  down  the  lines,  cutting  roadways  through 
the  compact  masses  of  men,  and  holding  their 
positions  until  the  Confederate  infantry  re 
formed,  drove  out  the  enemy  and  re-occupied  the 
line.  Several  batteries  were  completely  over- 
fun,  and  the  cannoniers  sought  and  found  safety 
in  front  of  the  works,  whence  the  enemy  had 
made  their  charge. 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.      Ill 

At  another  point  on  the  lines,  where  there 
was  no  infantry  support,  the  enemy  charged  re 
peatedly  and  made  every  effort  to  carry  the 
works,  but  were  handsomely  repulsed  by  artil 
lery  alone.  An  examination  of  the  ground  in 
front  of  the  works  after  the  fight,  disclosed  the 
fact  that  all  the  dead  and  wounded  were  vic 
tims  of  artillery  fire.  The  dead  were  literally 
torn  to  pieces,  and  the  wounded  dreadfully  man 
gled.  Scarcely  a  man  was  hurt  on  the  Con 
federate  side. 

At  Fort  Harrison,  a  few  miles  below  Rich 
mond,  in  1864,  a  ludicrous  scene  resulted  from 
the  firing  of  a  salute  with  shotted  guns.  Fed 
eral  artillery  occupied  the  fort,  and  the  lines  im 
mediately  in  front  of  it  were  held  by  the  "  De 
partment  Battalion,"  composed  of  the  clerks  in 
the  various  government  offices  in  Richmond, 
who  had  been  ordered  out  to  meet  an  emer 
gency.  Just  before  sundown  the  detail  for 
picket  duty  was  formed,  and  about  to  march  out 
to  the  picket  line,  the  clerks  presenting  quite  a 
soldierly  appearance.  Suddenly  bang  !  went  a 
gun  in  the  fort,  and  a  shell  came  tearing  over. 
Bang !  again,  and  bang  !  bang  !  and  more  shells 
exploding.  Pow  !  pow  !  what  consternation  ! 
In  an  instant  the  beautiful  line  melted  away  as 
by  magic.  Every  man  took  to  shelter,  and  the 
place  was  desolate.  The  firing  was  rapid,  reg- 


112  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

ular,  and  apparently  aimed  to  strike  the  Con 
federate  lines,  but  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  had 
begun.  General  Custis  Lee,  whose  tent  was  near 
by,  observing  the  panic,  stepped  quietly  up  to 
the  parapet  of  the  works,  folded  his  arms,  and 
walked  back  and  forth  without  uttering  a  word 
or  looking  to  the  right  or  to  the  left.  His  cool 
behavior,  coupled  with  the  silence  of  the  guns, 
soon  reassured  the  trembling  clerks,  and  one 
by  one  they  dropped  into  line  again.  General 
Butler  had  heard  some  news  that  pleased  him, 
and  ordered  a  salute  with  shotted  guns.  That 
was  all. 

Two  boys  who  had  volunteered  for  service 
with  the  militia  in  the  same  neighborhood,  were 
detailed  for  picket  duty.  It  was  the  custom  to 
put  three  men  on  each  post,  —  two  militia  boys 
and  one  veteran.  The  boys  and  an  old  soldier 
of  Johnston's  division  were  marched  to  their 
post,  where  they  found,  ready  dug,  a  pit  about 
five  feet  deep  and  three  feet  wide.  It  was  quite 
dark,  and  the  boys,  realizing  fully  their  exposed 
position,  at  once  occupied  the  pit.  The  old 
soldier  saw  he  had  an  opportunity  to  have  a  good 
time,  knowing  that  those  boys  would  keep  wide 
awake.  Giving  them  a  short  lecture  about  the 
importance  of  great  watchfulness,  he  warned 
them  to  be  ready  to  leave  there  very  rapidly  at 
any  moment,  and,  above  all,  to  keep  very  quiet. 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.     113 

His  words  were  wasted,  as  the  boys  would  not 
have  closed  their  eyes  or  uttered  a  word  for  the 
world.  These  little  details  arranged,  the  cun 
ning  old  soldier  prepared  to  make  himself  com 
fortable.  First  he  gathered  a  few  small  twigs 
and  made  a  very  small  fire.  On  the  fire  he  put 
a  battered  old  tin  cup.  Into  this  he  poured  some 
coffee  from  his  canteen.  From  some  mysterious 
place  in  his  clothes  he  drew  forth  sugar  and 
dropped  it  into  the  cup.  Next,  from  an  old 
worn  haversack,  he  took  a  "  chunk"  of  raw 
bacon  and  a  "  pone "  of  corn  bread.  Then, 
drawing  a  large  pocket  knife,  in  a  dexterous 
manner  he  sliced  and  ate  his  bread  and  meat, 
occasionally  sipping  his  coffee.  His  evening 
meal  leisurely  completed,  he  filled  his  pipe, 
smoked,  and  stirred  up  the  imaginations  of  the 
boys  by  telling  how  dangerous  a  duty  they  were 
performing :  told  them  how  easy  it  would  be 
for  the  Yankees  to  creep  up  and  shoot  them  or 
capture  and  carry  them  off.  Having  finished  his 
smoke,  he  knocked  out  the  ashes  and  dropped 
the  pipe  in  his  pocket.  Then  he  actually  un 
rolled  his  blanket  and  oil-cloth.  It  made  the 
perspiration  start  on  the  brows  of  the  boys  to 
see  the  man's  folly.  Then  taking  off  his  shoes, 
he  laid  down  on  one  edge,  took  hold  of  the 
blanket  and  oil-cloth,  rolled  himself  over  to  the 
other  side,  and  with  a  kind  "good  night"  to 


114  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

the  boys,  began  to  snore.  The  poor  boys  stood 
like  statues  in  the  pit  till  broad  day.  In  the 
morning  the  old  soldier  thanked  them  for  not 
disturbing  him,  and  quietly  proceeded  to  pre 
pare  his  breakfast. 

After  the  fight  at  Fisher's  Hill,  in  1864, 
Early's  army,  in  full  retreat  and  greatly  demor 
alized,  was  strung  out  along  the  valley  pike. 
The  Federal  cavalry  was  darting  around  pick 
ing  up  prisoners,  shooting  drivers,  and  making 
themselves  generally  disagreeable.  It  happened 
that  an  artilleryman,  who  was  separated  from 
his  gun,  was  making  pretty  good  time  on  foot, 
getting  to  the  rear,  and  had  the  appearance 
of  a  demoralized  infantryman  who  had  thrown 
away  his  musket.  So  one  of  these  lively  cav 
alrymen  trotted  up,  and,  waving  his  sabre,  told 
the  artilleryman  to  "surrender!"  But  he  did 
not  stop.  He  merely  glanced  over  his  shoulder, 
and  kept  on.  Then  the  cavalryman  became 

indignant  and   shouted,    "  Halt,      you  ; 

halt !  "  And  still  he  would  not.  "  Halt,1'  said 
the  cavalryman,  "  halt ! "  (using  a  very  insulting 
name),  "  halt ! "  Then  the  artilleryman  halted, 
and  remarking  that  he  did  n't  allow  any  man 
to  speak  to  him  that  way,  seized  a  huge  stick, 
turned  on  the  cavalryman,  knocked  him  out  of 
his  saddle,  and  proceeded  on  his  journey  to  the 
rear. 


FUN  AND  FURY  ON  THE  FIELD.     115 

This  artilleryman  fought  with  a  musket  at 
Sailor's  Creek.  He  found  himself  surrounded 
by  the  enemy,  who  demanded  surrender.  He 
refused ;  said  they  must  take  him  ;  and  laid 
about  him  with  the  butt  of  his  musket  till  he 
had  damaged  some  of  the  party  considerably. 
He  was,  however,  overpowered  and  made  a 
prisoner. 

Experienced  men,  in  battle,  always  availed 
themselves  of  any  shelter  within  reach.  A  tree, 
a  fence,  a  mound  of  earth,  a  ditch,  anything. 
Sometimes  their  efforts  to  find  shelter  were 
very  amusing  and  even  silly.  Men  lying  on  the 
ground  have  been  seen  to  put  an  old  canteen 
before  their  heads  as  a  shelter  from  musket 
balls ;  and  during  a  heavy  fire  of  artillery, 
seemed  to  feel  safer  under  a  tent.  Only  recruits 
and  fools  neglected  the  smallest  shelter. 

The  more  experienced  troops  knew  better 
when  to  give  up  than  green  ones,  and  never 
fought  well  after  they  were  satisfied  that  they 
could  not  accomplish  their  purpose.  Conse 
quently  it  often  happened  that  the  best  troops 
failed  where  the  raw  ones  did  well.  The  old 
Confederate  soldier  would  decide  some  questions 
for  himself.  To  the  last  he  maintained  the 
right  of  private  judgment,  and  especially  on  the 
field  of  battle. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

IMPROVISED    INFANTRY. 

SUNDAY,  April  2,  1865,  found  Cutshaw's 
battalion  of  artillery  occupying  the  earthworks 
at  Fort  Clifton  on  the  Appomattox,  about  two 
miles  below  Petersburg,  Virginia.  The  com 
mand  was  composed  of  the  Second  Company 
Richmond  Howitzers,  Captain  Lorraine  F. 
Jones,  Garber's  battery,  Fry's  battery,  and  rem 
nants  of  five  other  batteries  (saved  from  the 
battle  of  Spottsylvania  Court  House,  May  12, 
1864),  and  had  present  for  duty  nearly  five 
hundred  men,  with  a  total  muster-roll,  including 
the  men  in  prison,  of  one  thousand  and  eighty. 

The  place  —  the  old  "  Clifton  House  " —  was 
well  fortified,  and  had  the  additional  protection 
of  the  river  along  the  entire  front  of  perhaps 
a  mile.  The  works  extended  from  the  Ap 
pomattox  on  the  right  to  Swift  Creek  on  the 
left.  There  were  some  guns  of  heavy  calibre 
mounted  and  ready  for  action,  and  in  addition 
to  these  some  field-pieces  disposed  along  the 
line  at  suitable  points.  The  enemy  had  formi 
dable  works  opposite,  but  had  not  used  their 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  117 

guns  to  disturb  the  quiet  routine  of  the  camp. 
The  river  bank  was  picketed  by  details  from 
the  artillery,  armed  as  infantry,  but  without 
the  usual  equipments.  The  guard  duty  was  so 
heavy  that  half  the  men  were  always  on  guard. 

The  huts,  built  by  the  troops  who  had  for 
merly  occupied  the  place,  were  located,  with  a 
view  to  protection  from  the  enemy's  fire,  under 
the  hills  on  the  sides  of  the  ravines  or  gullies 
which  divided  them,  and  were  underground  to 
the  eaves  of  the  roof.  Consequently,  the  soil 
being  sandy,  there  was  a  constant  filtering  of 
sand  through  the  cracks,  and  in  spite  of  the 
greatest  care,  the  grit  found  its  way  into  the 
flour  and  meal,  stuck  to  the  greasy  frying-pan, 
and  even  filled  the  hair  of  the  men  as  they 
slept  in  their  bunks. 

At  this  time  rations  were  reduced  to  the  min 
imum  of  quantity  and  quality,  being  generally 
worm-eaten  peas,  sour  or  rancid  mess-pork,  and 
unbolted  corn  meal,  relieved  occasionally  with 
a  small  supply  of  luscious  canned  beef,  imported 
from  England,  good  flour  (half  rations),  a  little 
coffee  and  sugar,  and,  once,  apple  brandy  for  all 
hands.  Ragged,  barefooted,  and  even  bare 
headed  men  were  so  common  that  they  did  not 
excite  notice  or  comment,  and  did  not  expect 
or  seem  to  feel  the  want  of  sympathy.  And 
yet  there  was  scarcely  a  complaint  or  murmur 


118  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

of  dissatisfaction,  and  not  the  slightest  indica 
tion  of  fear  or  doubt.  The  spirit  of  the  men 
was  as  good  as  ever,  and  the  possibility  of  im 
mediate  disaster  had  not  cast  its  shadow  there. 

Several  incidents  occurred  during  the  stay  of 
the  battalion  at  Fort  Clifton  which  will  serve 
to  illustrate  every-day  life  on  the  lines.  It  oc 
curred  to  a  man  picketing  the  river  bank  that 
it  would  be  amusing  to  take  careful  aim  at  the 
man  on  the  other  side  doing  the  same  duty  for 
the  enemy,  fire,  laugh  to  see  the  fellow  jump 
and  dodge,  and  then  try  again.  He  fired, 
laughed,  dropped  his  musket  to  reload,  and 
while  smiling  with  satisfaction,  heard  the 
u  thud  "of  a  bullet  and  felt  an  agonizing  pain 
in  his  arm.  His  musket  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
he  walked  back  to  camp  with  his  arm  swinging 
heavily  at  his  side.  The  surgeon  soon  relieved 
him  of  it  altogether.  The  poor  fellow  learned 
a  lesson.  The  "  Yank  "  beat  him  at  his  own 
game. 

The  guard-house  was  a  two-story  framed 
building,  about  twelve  feet  square,  having  two 
rooms,  one  above  the  other.  The  detail  for 
guard  duty  was  required  to  stay  in  the  guard 
house  ;  those  who  wished  to  sleep  going  up 
stairs,  while  others  just  relieved  or  about  to  go 
on  duty  clustered  around  the  fire  in  the  lower 
room.  One  night,  when  the  upper  floor  was 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  119 

covered  with  sleeping  men,  an  improvised  in 
fantryman  who  had  been  relieved  from  duty 
walked  in,  and,  preparatory  to  taking  his  stand 
at  the  fire,  threw  his  musket  carelessly  in  the 
corner.  A  loud  report  and  angry  exclamations 
immediately  followed.  The  sergeant  of  the 
guard,. noticing  the  direction  of  the  ball,  hur 
ried  up-stairs,  and  to  the  disgust  of  the  sleepy 
fellows,  ordered  all  hands  to  "  turn  out."  Grum 
bling,  growling,  stretching,  and  rubbing  their 
eyes,  the  men  got  up.  Some  one  inquired, 
"  Where  's  Pryor  ?  "  His  chum,  who  had  been 
sleeping  by  his  side,  replied,  "  there  he  is,  asleep  ; 
shake  him."  His  blanket  was  drawn  aside,  and 
with  a  shake  he  was  commanded  to  "  get  up !  " 
But  there  was  no  motion,  no  reply.  The  ball 
had  passed  through  his  heart,  and  he  had  passed 
without  a  groan  or  a  sigh  from  deep  sleep  to 
death.  The  man  who  was  killed  and  the  man 
who  was  sleeping  by  his  side  under  the  same 
blanket,  were  members  of  the  Second  Company 
Richmond  Howitzers.  The  careless  man  who 
made  the  trouble  was  also  an  artilleryman,  from 
one  of  the  other  batteries. 

Shortly  after  this  accident,  after  a  quiet  day, 
the  men  retired  to  their  huts,  and  the  whole 
camp  was  still  as  a  country  church-yard.  The 
pickets  on  the  river's  edge  could  hear  those  on 
the  opposite  side  asking  the  corporal  of  the 


120  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

guard  the  hour,  and  complaining  that  they  had 
not  been  promptly  relieved.  Suddenly  a  ter 
rific  bombardment  commenced,  and  the  earth 
fairly  trembled.  The  men,  suddenly  awakened, 
heard  the  roar  of  the  guns,  the  rush  of  the 
shots,  and  the  explosion  of  the  shells.  To  a 
man  only  half  awake,  the  shells  seemed  to  pass 
very  near  and  in  every  direction.  In  a  moment 
all  were  rushing  out  of  their  houses,  and  soon 
the  hill-sides  and  bluffs  were  covered  with  an 
excited  crowd,  gazing  awe-struck  on  the  sight. 
The  firing  was  away  to  the  right,  and  there  was 
not  the  slightest -danger.  Having  realized  this 
fact,  the  interest  was  intense.  The  shells  from 
the  opposite  lines  met  and  passed  in  mid-air  — 
their  burning  fuses  forming  an  arch  of  fire, 
which  paled  occasionally  as  a  shell  burst,  illu 
minating  the  heavens  with  its  blaze.  The  up 
roar,  even  at  such  a  distance,  was  terrible.  The 
officers,  fearing  that  fire  would  be  opened  along 
the  whole  line,  ordered  the  cannoniers  to  their 
posts  ;  men  were  sent  down  into  the  magazine 
with  lanterns  to  arrange  the  ammunition  for 
the  heavy  guns ;  the  lids  of  the  limbers  of  the 
field-pieces  were  thrown  up ;  the  cannoniers 
were  counted  off  at  their  posts  ;  the  brush  which 
had  been  piled  before  the  embrasures  was  torn 
away  ;  and,  with  implements  in  hand,  all  stood 
at  "  attention  1 "  till  the  last  shot  was  fired. 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  121 

The  heavens  were  dark  again,  and  silence 
reigned.  Soon  all  hands  were  as  sound  asleep 
as  though  nothing  had  occurred. 

The  next  morning  an  artilleryman  came  walk 
ing  leisurely  towards  the  camp,  and  being  rec 
ognized  as  belonging  to  a  battery  which  was  in 
position  on  that  part  of  the  line  where  the 
firing  of  the  last  night  occurred,  was  plied 
with  questions  as  to  the  loss  on  our  side,  who 
was  hurt,  etc.,  etc.  Smiling  at  the  anxious 
faces  and  eager  questions,  he  replied  :  "  When  ? 
Last  night?  Nobody!"  It  was  astounding, 
but  nevertheless  true. 

On  another  occasion  some  scattering  shots 
were  heard  up  the  river,  and  after  a  while  a  body 
came  floating  down  the  stream.  It  was  hauled 
on  shore  and  buried  in  the  sand  a  little  above 
high-water  mark.  It  was  a  poor  Confederate 
who  had  attempted  to  desert  to  the  enemy,  but 
wras  shot  while  swimming  for  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  river.  His  grave  was  the  centre  of  the 
beat  of  one  of  the  picket  posts  on  the  river 
bank,  and  there  were  few  men  so  indifferent  to 
the  presence  of  the  dead  as  not  to  prefer  some 
other  post. 

And  so,  while  there  had  been  no  fighting, 
there  were  always  incidents  to  remind  the  sol 
dier  that  danger  lurked  around,  and  that  he 
could  not  long  avoid  his  share.  The  camp  was 


122  SOLDIER  LIFE. 

not  as  joyous  as  it  had  been,  and  all  felt  that 
the  time  was  near  which  would  try  the  courage 
of  the  stoutest.  The  struggles  of  the  troops  on 
the  right  with  overwhelming  numbers  and  re 
ports  of  adversities,  caused  a  general  expecta 
tion  that  the  troops  lying  so  idly  at  the  Clifton 
House  would  be  ordered  to  the  point  of  danger. 
They  had  not  long  to  wait. 

Sunday  came  and  went  as  many  a  Sunday 
had.  There  was  nothing  unusual  apparent,  un 
less,  perhaps,  the  dull  and  listless  attitudes  of 
the  men,  and  the  monotonous  call  of  those  on 
guard  were  more  oppressive  than  usual.  The 
sun  went  down,  the  hills  and  valleys  and  the 
river  were  veiled  in  darkness.  Here  and  there 
twinkling  lights  were  visible.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  river  could  be  heard  a  low  rumbling 
which  experienced  men  said  was  the  movement 
of  artillery  and  ammunition  trains  bound  to  the 
enemy's  left  to  press  the  already  broken  right 
of  the  Confederate  line. 

Some  had  actually  gone  to  sleep  for  the  night. 
Others  were  huddled  around  the  fires  in  the 
little  huts,  and  a  few  sat  out  on  the  hill-side  dis 
cussing  the  probabilities  of  the  near  future. 
A  most  peaceful  scene  ;  a  most  peaceful  spot. 
Hymns  were  sung  and  prayers  were  made, 
though  no  preacher  was  there.  Memory  re 
verted  fondly  to  the  past,  to  home  and  friends. 


IMPROVISED  INFANTRY.  123 

The  spirit  of  the  soldier  soared  away  to  other 
scenes,  and  left  Mm  to  sit  blankly  down,  gaze 
at  the  stars,  and  feel  unspeakable  longings  for 
undefined  joys,  and  weep,  for  very  tenderness 
of  heart,  at  his  own  sad  loneliness. 

At  ten  P.  M.  some  man  mounted  on  horse 
back  rode  up  to  one  of  the  huts,  and  said  the 
battalion  had  orders  to  move.  It  was  so  dark 
that  his  face  was  scarcely  visible.  In  a  few 
minutes  orders  were  received  to  destroy  what 
could  be  destroyed  without  noise  or  fire.  This 
was  promptly  done.  Then  the  companies  were 
formed,  the  roll  was  called,  and  the  battalion 
marched  slowly  and  solemnly  away.  No  one 
doubted  that  the  command  would  march  at 
once  to  the  assistance  of  the  troops  at  or  near 
Five  Forks.  It  was  thought  that  before  morn 
ing  every  man  would  have  his  musket  and  his 
supply  of  ammunition,  and  the  crack  of  day 
would  see  the  battalion  rushing  into  battle  in 
regular  infantry  style,  whooping  and  yelling 
like  demons.  But  they  got  no  arms  that  night. 
The  march  was  steady  till  broad  day  of  Mon 
day  the  3d  of  April.  Of  course  the  men  felt 
mortified  at  having  to  leave  the  guns,  but  there 
was  no  help  for  it,  as  the  battery  horses  which 
had  been  sent  away  to  winter  had  nol  returned. 
It  was  evident  that  the  battalion  had  bid  fare 
well  to  artillery,  and  commenced  a  new  career 
as  infantry. 


124  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

As  the  night  wore  on  the  men  learned  that 
the  command  was  not  going  to  any  point  on  the 
lines.  That  being  determined,  no  one  could 
guess  its  destination.  Later  in  the  night,  prob 
ably  as  day  approached,  the  sky  in  the  direction 
of  Richmond  was  lit  with  the  red  glare  of  dis 
tant  conflagration,  and  at  short  intervals  there 
were  deep,  growling  explosions  of  magazines. 
The  roads  were  filled  with  other  troops,  all  hur 
rying  in  the  same  direction.  There  was  no  sign 
of  panic  or  fear,  but  the  very  wheels  seemed 
turning  with  unusual  energy.  The  men  wore 
the  look  of  determination,  haste,  and  eagerness. 
One  could  feel  the  energy  which  surrounded 
him  and  animated  the  men  and  things  which 
moved  so  steadily  on,  on,  on  !  There  was  no 
laughing,  singing,  or  talking.  Nothing  but  the 
steady  tread  of  the  column  and  the  surly  rum 
bling  of  the  trains. 

As  morning  dawned  the  battalion  struck  the 
main  road  leading  from  Richmond.  Refugees 
told  the  story  of  the  evacuation,  and  informed 
the  boys  from  the  city  that  it  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  enemy  and  burning,  and  the  chances 
were  that  not  one  house  would  be  left  standing. 
Here  it  became  clearly  understood  that  the 
whole  army  was  in  full  retreat.  From  this 
point  the  men  began  to  say,  as  they  marched, 
that  it  was  easier  to  march  away  than  it  would 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  125 

be  to  get  back,  but  that  they  expected  and 
hoped  to  fight  their  way  back  if  they  had  to 
contest  every  inch.  Some  even  regretted  the 
celerity  of  the  march,  for,  they  said,  "  the  fur 
ther  we  march  the  more  difficult  it  will  be  to 
win  our  way  back."  Little  did  they  know  of 
the  immense  pressure  at  the  rear,  and  the  ear 
nest  push  of  the  enemy  on  the  flank  as  lie 
strove  to  reach  and  overlap  the  advance  of  his 
hitherto  defiant,  but  now  retreating,  foe. 

A  detail  had  been  left  at  Fort  Clifton  with 
orders  to  spike  the  guns,  blow  up  the  magazine, 
destroy  everything  which  could  be  of  value  to 
the  enemy,  and  rejoin  the  command.  The  or 
der  was  obeyed,  and  every  man  of  the  detail 
resumed  his  place  in  the  ranks. 

From  this  point  to  Appomattox  the  march 
was  almost  continuous,  day  and  night,  and  it  is 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  a  private  in  the 
ranks  can  recall  with  accuracy  the  dates  and 
places  on  the  march.  Night  was  day  —  day 
was  night.  There  was  no  stated  time  to  sleep, 
eat,  or  rest,  and  the  events  of  morning  became 
strangely  intermingled  with  the  events  of  even 
ing.  Breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper  were 
merged  into  "  something  to  eat,"  whenever  and 
wherever  it  could  be  had.  The  incidents  of  the 
march,  however,  lose  none  of  their  significance 
on  this  account,  and  so  far  as  possible  they  will 
10 


126  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

be  given  in  the  order  in  which  they  occurred, 
and  the  day  and  hour  fixed  as  accurately  as 
they  can  be  by  those  who  witnessed  and  partic 
ipated  in  its  dangers  and  hardships. 

Monday,  the  3d,  the  column  was  pushed  along 
without  ceremony,  at  a  rapid  pace,  until  night, 
when  a  halt  was  ordered  and  the  battalion  laid 
down  in  a  piece  of  pine  woods  to  rest.  There 
was  some  "  desultory  "  eating  in  this  camp,  but 
so  little  of  it  that  there  was  no  lasting  effect. 
At  early  dawn  of  Tuesday,  the  4th,  the  men 
struggled  to  their  feet,  and  with  empty  stom 
achs  and  brave  hearts  resumed  their  places  in 
the  ranks,  and  struggled  on  with  the  column  as 
it  marched  steadily  in  the  direction  of  Moore's 
Church,  in  Amelia  County,  where  it  arrived  in 
the  night.  The  men  laid  down  under  the  shelter 
of  a  fine  grove,  and  friend  divided  with  friend 
the  little  supplies  of  raw  bacon  and  bread 
picked  up  on  the  day's  march.  They  were 
scarcely  stretched  on  the  ground  ready  for  a 
good  nap,  when  the  orderly  of  the  Howitzers 
commenced  bawling,  "  Detail  for  guard  !  detail 
for  guard  !  Fall  in  here;  fall  in  !  "  then  followed 
the  names  of  the  detail.  Four  men  answered 
to  their  names,  but  declared  they  could  not  keep 
awake  if  placed  on  guard.  Their  remonstrance 
was  in  vain.  They  were  marched  off  to  picket 
a  road  leading  to  camp,  and  when  they  were 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  127 

relieved,  said  they  had  slept  soundly  on  their 
posts.  No  one  blamed  them. 

While  it  was  yet  night  all  hands  were  roused 
from  profound  sleep  ;  the  battalion  was  formed, 
and  away  they  went,  stumbling,  bumping 
against  each  other,  and  deeping  as  they  walked. 
Whenever  the  column  halted  for  a  moment,  as 
it  did  frequently  during  the  night,  the  men 
dropped  heavily  to  the  ground  and  were  in 
stantly  asleep.  Then  the  officers  would  com 
mence:  "Forward!  column  forward!  "  Those 
first  on  their  feet  went  stumbling  on  oveu  their 
prostrate  comrades,  who  would  in  turn  be  awak 
ened,  and  again  the  column  was  in  motion,  and 
nothing  heard  but  the  monotonous  tread  of  the 
weary  feet,  the  ringing  and  rattling  of  the 
trappings  of  the  horses,  and  the  never-ending 
cry  of  "  Close  up,  men  ;  close  up  !  " 

Through  the  long,  weary  night  there  was  no 
rest.  The  alternate  halting  and  hurrying  was 
terribly  trying,  and  taxed  the  endurance  of  the 
most  determined  men  to  the  very  utmost ;  and 
yet  on  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  the  5th, 
when  the  battalion  reached  the  neighborhood 
of  Scott's  Shops,  every  man  was  in  phce  and 
ready  for  duty.  From  this  point,  after  some  in 
effectual  efforts  to  get  a  breakfast,  the  column 
pushed  on  in  the  direction  of  Amelia  Court 
House,  at  which  point  Colonel  Cutshaw  was 


128  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

ordered  to  report  to  General  James  A.  Walker, 
and  the  battalion  was  thereafter  a  part  of  Walk 
er's  division.  The  5th  was  spent  at  or  near  the 
court  house  —  how,  it  is  difficult  to  remember  ; 
but  the  day  was  marked  by  several  incidents 
worthy  of  record. 

About  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  muskets 
(not  enough  to  arm  all  the  men),  cartridges, 
and  caps  were  issued  to  the  battalion  —  simply 
the  muskets  and  ammunition.  Not  a  cartrklge- 
box,  cap-box,  belt,  or  any  other  convenience 
ornamented  the  persons  of  these  new-born  in 
fantrymen.  They  stored  their  ammunition  in 
their  pockets  along  with  their  corn,  salt,  pipes, 
and  tobacco. 

When  application  was  made  for  rations,  it 
was  found  that  the  last  morsel  belonging  to  the 
division  had  been  issued  to  the  command,  and 
the  battalion  was  again  thrown  on  its  own  re 
sources,  to  wit :  corn  on  the  cob  intended  for 
the  horses.  Two  ears  were  issued  to  each  man. 
It  was  parched  in  the  coals,  mixed  with  salt, 
stored  in  the  pockets,  and  eaten  on  the  road. 
Chewing  the  corn  was  hard  work.  It  made  the 
jaws  ache' and  the  gums  and  teeth  so  sore  as  to 
cause  almost  unendurable  pain. 

After  the  muskets  were  issued  a  line  of  battle 
was  formed  with  Cutshaw  on  the  right.  For 
what  purpose  the  line  was  formed  the  men 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  129 

could  not  tell.  A  short  distance  from  the  right 
of  the  line  there  was  a  grove  which  concealed 
an  ammunition  train  which  had  been  sent  from 
Richmond  to  meet  the  army.  The  ammuni 
tion  had  been  piled  up  ready  for  destruction. 
An  occasional  musket  ball  passed  over  near 
enough  and  often  enough  to  produce  a  realizing 
sense  of  the  proximity  of  the  enemy  and  sol 
emnize  the  occasion.  Towards  evening  the 
muskets  were  stacked,  artillery  style  of  course, 
the  men  were  lying  around,  chatting  and  eating 
raw  bacon,  and  there  was  general  quiet,  when 
suddenly  the  earth  shook  with  a  tremendous 
explosion  and  an  immense  column  of  smoke 
rushed  up  into  the  air  to  a  great  height.  For 
a  moment  there  was  the  greatest  consternation. 
Whole  regiments  broke  and  fled  in  wild  confu 
sion.  Cutshaw's  men  stood  up,  seized  their 
muskets,  and  stood  at  attention  till  it  was 
known  that  the  ammunition  had  been  purposely 
fired  and  no  enemy  was  threatening  the  line. 
Then  what  laughter  and  hilarity  prevailed,  for 
a  while,  among  these  famishing  men  I. 

Order  having  been  restored,  the  march  was 
resumed,  and  moving  by  way  of  Amelia  Springs, 
the  column  arrived  near  Deatonsville,  about  ten 
o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  Thursday  the  6th. 
The  march,  though  not  a  long  one,  was  ex 
ceedingly  tiresome,  as,  the  main  roads  being 


130  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

crowded,  the  column  moved  by  plantation  roads, 
which  were  in  wretched  condition  and  crowded 
with  troops  and  trains.  That  the  night  was 
spent  in  the  most  trying  manner  may  best  be 
learned  from  the  fact  that  when  morning  dawned 
the  column  was  only  six  or  seven  miles  from  the 
starting  point  of  the  evening  before. 

This  delay  was  fatal.  The  whole  army  — 
trains  and  all  —  left  Amelia  Court  House  in  ad 
vance  of  Walker's  division,  which  was  left  to 
cover  the  retreat,  Cutshaw's  battalion  being  the 
last  to  leave  the  court  house,  thus  bringing  up 
the  rear  of  the  army,  and  being  in  constant 
view  of  the  enemy's  hovering  cavalry.  The 
movement  of  the  division  was  regulated  to  suit 
the  movements  of  the  wagon  trains,  which 
should  have  been  destroyed  on  the  spot,  and 
the  column  allowed  to  make  its  best  time,  as, 
owing  to  the  delay  they  occasioned,  the  army 
lost  the  time  it  had  gained  on  the  enemy  in  the 
start,  and  was  overtaken  the  next  day. 

At  Deatonsville  another  effort  to  cook  was 
made,  but  before  the  simplest  articles  of  food 
could  be  prepared,  the  order  to  march  was 
given,  and  the  battalion  took  the  road  once 
more. 

A  short  while  after  passing  Deatonsville  the 
column  was  formed  in  line  of  battle,  —  Cut 
shaw's  battalion  near  the  road  and  in  an  old 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  131 

field  with  woods  in  front  and  rear.  The  offi 
cers,  anticipating  an  immediate  attack,  ordered 
the  men  to  do  what  they  could  for  their  protec 
tion.  They  immediately  scattered  along  the 
fence  on  the  roadside,  and  taking  down  the  rails 
stalked  back  to  their  position  in  line,  laid  the 
rails  on  the  ground  and  returned  for  another 
load.  This  they  continued  to  do  until  the 
whole  of  the  fence  was  removed.  Behind  this 
slim  defense  they  silently  awaited  the  advance 
of  the  enemy. 

Soon  it  was  decided  that  this  was  not  the 
place  to  make  a  stand.  The  first  detachment  of 
the  Second  Company  of  Richmond  Howitzers, 
and  twenty  men  each  from  Garber  and  Fry, 
under  the  command  of  Lieutenant  Henry  Jones, 
were  left  behind  the  fence-rail  work,  with  orders 
to  resist  and  retard  the  advance  of  the  enemy 
while  the  column  continued  its  march. 

This  little  band  was  composed  of  true  spirits, 
—  the  best  material  in  the  battalion.  Right  well 
did  they  do  their  duty.  Left  alone  to  face  the 
advance  of  the  immense  host  eagerly  pursuing 
the  worn  remnant  of  the  invincible  army,  they 
waited  until  the  enemy's  skirmishers  appeared 
in  the  field,  when,  with  perfect  deliberation, 
they  commenced  their  fire.  Though  greatly 
outnumbered,  and  flanked  right  and  left,  they 
stubbornly  held  on  till  the  line  of  battle  follow- 


132  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

ing  the  skirmishers  broke  from  the  woods,  and 
advancing  rapidly  poured  into  them  a  murder 
ous  volley.  And  yet,  so  unused  were  they  to 
running,  they  moved  not  till  the  infantry  skir 
mishers  had  retired,  and  the  word  of  command 
was  heard.  Then  stubbornly  contesting  the 
ground,  they  fought  their  way  back  through 
the  woods.  The  gallant  Lieutenant  Jones  fell 
mortally  wounded,  having  held  control  of  his 
little  band  to  the  moment  he  fell.  His  friend 
Kemp  refused  to  leave  him,  and  they  were 
captured  together,  but  were  immediately  sep 
arated  by  the  enemy.  Pearson  was  pierced 
through  by  a  musket  ball  as  he  was  hurrying 
through  the  woods,  and  fell  heavily  to  the 
ground.  Bin  ford  was  severely  wounded,  but 
managed  to  escape.  Hamilton  was  killed  out 
right. 

The  battalion  had  left  this  point  but  a  short 
time,  marching  in  column  of  fours  with  the 
division,  and  had  reached  the  brow  of  a  gently 
sloping  hill,  perfectly  open  for  perhaps  a  mile, 
with  a  broad  valley  on  the  left,  and  beyond  it 
a  range  of  hills  partly  wooded.  In  an  open 
space  on  this  range  the  enemy  placed  a  battery 
in  position,  and,  in  anticipation  of  doing  great 
slaughter  from  a  safe  distance,  opened  a  rapid 
fire  on  the  exposed  and  helpless  column.  The 
shells  came  hurtling  over  the  valley,  exploding 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  133 

in  front,  rear,  and  overhead,  and  tearing  up 
the  ground  in  every  direction.  Ah  !  how  it 
grieved  those  artillerymen  to  stand,  musket  in 
hand,  and  receive  that  shower  of  insolence. 
How  they  longed  for  the  old  friends  they  had 
left  at  Fort  Clifton.  They  knew  how  those 
rascals  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley  were  en 
joying  the  sport.  They  could  hear,  in  imagina 
tion,  the  shouts  of  the  cannoniers  as  they  saw 
their  shells  bursting  so  prettily,  and  rammed 
home  another  shot. 


There  was  some  impediment  ahead,  and  there 
the  column  stood,  a  fair  mark  for  these  rascals. 
There  was  no  help  near,  and  all  that  could  be 
done  was  to  stand  firm  and  wait  orders  ;  but 
help  was  coining. 

A  cloud  of  dust  was  approaching  from  the 
rear  of  the  column.  All  eyes  were  strained  to 
see  what  it  might  mean.  Presently  the  artil- 


13 A  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

lerymen  recognized  a  well-known  sound.  A 
battery  was  coming  in  full  gallop,  the  drivers 
lashing  their  horses  and  yelling  like  madmen. 
The  guns  bounded  along  as  though  they  would 
outrun  the  horses,  and  with  rush,  roar,  and  rat 
tle  they  approached  the  front  of  the  battalion. 
Some  fellow  in  the  Second  Company  Howitzers 
sung  out,  "  Old  Henry  Carter  !  Hurrah  !  for 
the  Third  Company  !  Give  it  to  'em,  boys !  " 
It  was,  indeed,  the  Third  Company  of  Howit 
zers,  long  separated  from  the  Second,  with 
their  gallant  captain  at  their  head  ! 

Not  a  moment  was  lost.  The  guns  were  in 
battery,  and  the  smoke  of  the  first  shot  was 
curling  about  the  heads  of  the  men  in  the  col 
umn  in  marvelously  quick  time.  Friends  and 
comrades  in  the  column  called  to  the  men  at 
the  guns,  and  they,  as  they  stepped  in  and 
out,  responded  with  cheerful,  ringing  voices, 
"  Hello,  Bill !  "  "  How  are  you,  Joe  ?  "  Bang ! 
"  Pretty  "  —  Bang  !  —  "  well,  I  thank  you." 
Bang  I  "  Oh  !  we  're  giving  it  to  'em  now." 
Bang ! 

As  the  battalion  moved  on,  the  gallant  boys 
of  the  Third  Company  finished  their  work. 
The  disappointed  enemy  limbered  up,  slipped 
into  the  woods  and  departed.  Cheered  by  this 
fortunate  meeting  with  old  comrades,  with  the 
pleasant  odor  of  the  smoke  lingering  around 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  135 

them,  these  hitherto  bereft  and  mournful  artil 
lerymen  pushed  on,  laughing  at  the  discomfit 
ure  of  the  enemy,  and  feeling  that  though  de 
prived  of  their  guns  by  the  misfortunes  of  war, 
there  was  still  left  at  least  one  battery  worthy 
to  represent  the  artillery  of  the  army. 

As  the  column  marched  slowly  along,  some 
sharp-eyed  man  discovered  three  of  the  enemy's 
skirmishers  in  a  field  away  on  the  left.  More 
for  amusement  than  anything  else,  it  was  pro 
posed  to  fire  at  them.  A  group  of  men  gath 
ered  on  the  roadside,  a  volley  was  fired,  and,  to 
the  amazement  of  the  marksmen,  for  the  dis 
tance  was  great,  one  of  the  skirmishers  fell. 
One  of  his  comrades  started  on  a  run  to  his 
assistance,  and  he,  too,  was  stopped.  The  third 
man  then  scampered  away  as  fast  as  his  legs 
could  carry  him.  The  battalion  applauded  the 
good  shots  and  marched  on. 

At  Sailor's  Creek  the  detachment  which  had 
been  left  at  Deatonsville,  behind  the  fence  rails, 
to  watch  and  retard  the  approach  of  the  enemy, 
having  slowly  retired  before  their  advance,  re 
joined  the  command.  Indeed,  their  resistance 
and  retreat  was  the  beginning  of  and  ended  in 
the  battle  of  Sailor's  Creek. 

The  line  of  battle  was  formed  on  Locket's 
Hill,  which  sloped  gently  down  from  the  line  to 
the  creek,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  two 


136 


SOLDIER   LIFE. 


hundred  yards  in  rear  of  and  running  nearly 
parallel  with  the  line  of  battle.  A  road  divided 
the  battalion  near  the  centre.  The  Howitzers 
wei-e  on  the  left  of  this  road  and  in  the  woods ; 
Garber's  men  were  on  the  right  of  the  Howitz 
ers,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road,  in  a  field  ; 
Fry's  men  on  the  extreme  left.  To  cross  the 
road  dividing  the  line  was  a  hazardous  experi 
ment,  as  the  enemy,  thinking  it  an  important 
avenue,  swept  it  with  musketry. 


It  was  amusing  to  see  the  men  hauling  out  of 
their  pockets  a  mixture  of  corn,  salt,  caps,  and 
cartridges,  and,  selecting  the  material  needed, 
loading.  They  were  getting  ready  to  stand. 
They  did  not  expect  to  run,  and  did  not  until 
ordered  to  do  so. 

The  enemy's  skirmishers  advanced  confi 
dently  and  in  rather  free  and  easy  style,  but 


IMPROVISED    INFANTRY.  137 

suddenly  met  a  volley  which  drove  them  to 
cover.  Again  they  advanced,  in  better  order, 
and  again  the  improvised  infantry  forced  them 
back.  Then  came  their  line  of  battle  with 
overwhelming  numbers  ;  but  the  battalion  stub 
bornly  resisted  their  advance.  The  men,  not 
accustomed  to  the  orderly  manner  of  infantry, 
dodged  about  from  tree  to  tree,  and  with  the 
deliberation  of  huntsmen  picked  off  here  and 
there  a  man.  When  a  shot  "told,"  the  marks 
man  hurrahed,  all  to  himself.  There  was  an 
evident  desire  to  press  forward  and  drive  the 
advancing  foe.  Several  of  the  men  were  so  en 
thusiastic  that  they  had  pushed  ahead  of  the 
line,  and  several  yards  in  advance  they  could  be 
seen  loading  and  firing  as  deliberately  as  though 
practicing  at  a  mark. 

Colonel  Cutshaw  received  a  wound  which  so 
shattered  his  leg  that  he  had  to  be  lifted  from 
his  horse  into  an  ambulance.  He  was  near  be 
ing  captured,  but  by  hurrying  away  the  ambu 
lance  at  a  gallop,  he  escaped  to  a  house  a  short 
distance  in  the  rear,  where  he  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy.  The  same  night  he  suffered  am 
putation  of  a  leg.  Captain  Garber  was  struck, 
and  called  for  the  ambulance  corps,  but  on  ex 
amination  found  the  ball  in  his  pocket.  It  had 
lodged  against  the  rowel  of  a  spur  which  he 
found  the  day  before  and  dropped  in  his  pocket. 


138  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

At  last  the  enemy  appeared  in  strong  force 
on  both  flanks,  while  he  pushed  hard  in  front. 
It  was  useless  to  attempt  a  further  stand.  The 
voice  of  Captain  Jones,  of  the  Howitzers,  rang 
out  loud  and  clear,  "  Boys,  take  care  of  your 
selves  !  "  Saying  this,  he  planted  himself 
against  a  pine,  and,  as  his  men  rushed  by  him, 
emptied  every  chamber  of  his  revolver  at  the 
enemy,  and  then  reluctantly  made  his  way,  in 
company  with  several  privates,  down  the  hill  to 
the  creek. 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill  a  group  of  perhaps  a 
dozen  men  gathered  around  Lieutenant  McRae. 
He  was  indignant.  He  proposed  another  stand, 
and  his  comrades  agreed.  They  stood  in  the 
road,  facing  the  gentle  slope  of  the  hill  from 
which  they  had  been  ordered  to  retire.  The 
enemy's  skirmishers  were  already  on  the  brow 
of  the  hill,  dodging  about  among  the  trees  and 
shouting  to  those  behind  to  hurry  up.  Their 
favorite  expressions  were,  "Come  along,  boys; 

here  are  the  —  rebel  wagons  !  "  " 

'em,  shoot  'em  down  !  " 

In  a  few  moments  their  line  of  battle,  in 
beautiful  order,  stepped  out  of  the  woods  with 
colors  flying,  and  for  a  moment  halted.  In  front 
of  the  centre  of  that  portion  of  the  line  which 
was  visible  —  probably  a  full  regimental  front 
—  marched  the  colors,  and  color-guard.  McRae 


o 


LAST   SHOT.      SAILOR'S    CREEK. 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  139 

saw  his  opportunity.  He  ordered  his  squad  to 
rise  and  fire  on  the  colors.  His  order  was 
promptly  obeyed.  The  color-bearer  pitched 
forward  and  fell,  with  his  colors,  heavily  to  the 
ground  The  guard  of  two  men  on  either  side 
shared  the  same  fate,  or  else  feigned  it.  Imme 
diately  the  line  of  battle  broke  into  disorder, 
and  came  swarming  down  the  hill,  firing,  yell 
ing,  and  cursing  as  the}''  came.  An  officer, 
mounted,  rode  his  horse  close  to  the  fence  on 
the  roadside,  and  with  the  most  superb  inso 
lence  mocked  McRae  and  his  squad,  already, 
as  he  thought,  hopelessly  intermingled  with  the 
enemy.  McRae,  in  his  rage,  swore  back  at 
him,  and  in  the  hearing  of  the  man,  called  on 

a   man    near   him   to   shoot  "that ," 

calling  him  a  fearfully  hard  name.  But  the 
private's  gun  was  not  in  working  order,  and  the 
fellow  escaped  for  the  time.  Before  he  reached 
the  woods,  whither  he  was  going  to  hurry  up 
the  "boys,"  a  Howitzer  let  fly  at  him,  and  at 
the  shock  of  the  bullet's  stroke  he  threw  his 
arms  up  in  the  air,  and  his  horse  bore  him  into 
the  woods  a  corpse. 

A  little  to  the  left,  where  the  road  crossed  the 
creek,  the  crack  of  pistols  and  the  "  bang  "  of 
muskets  was  continuous.  The  enemy  had  sur 
rounded  the  wagons  and  were  mercilessly  shoot 
ing  down  the  unarmed  and  helpless  drivers, 
11 


140  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

some  of  whom,  however,  managed  to  cut  the 
traces,  mount,  and  ride  away. 

In  order  to  escape  from  the  right  of  the  line, 
it  was  necessary  to  follow  the  road,  which  was 
along  the  foot  of  the  hill,  some  distance  to  the 
left.  The  enemy  seeing  this  were  pushing 
their  men  rapidly  at  a  right  oblique  to  gain  the 
road  and  cut  off  retreat.  Consequently  those 
who  attempted  escape  in  that  direction  had  to 
run  the  gauntlet  of  a  constant  fusilade  from  a 
mass  of  troops  near  enough  to  select  individ 
uals,  curse  them,  and  command  them  to  throw 
down  their  arms  or  be  shot. 

Most  of  McRae's  squad,  in  spite  of  the  diffi 
culties  surrounding  them,  gained  the  creek, 
plunged  in,  and  began  a  race  for  life  up  the 
long,  open  hill-side  of  plowed  ground,  fired  upon 
at  every  step  by  the  swarm  of  men  behind,  and 
before  they  reached  the  top,  by  a  battery  in 
close  proximity,  which  poured  down  a  shower 
of  canister. 

The  race  to  the  top  of  the  long  hill  was  ex 
ceedingly  trying  to  men  already  exhausted  by 
continual  marching,  hunger,  thirst,  and  loss  of 
sleep.  They  ran,  panting  for  breath,  like 
chased  animals,  fairly  staggering  as  they  went. 

On  the  top  of  this  long  hill  there  was  a  skir 
mish  line  of  cavalry  posted,  with  orders  to  stop 
all  men  with  arms  in  their  hands,  and  form  a 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  141 

new  line;  but  the  view  down  the  hill  to  the 
creek  and  beyond  revealed  such  a  host  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  men  retiring  before  them  were 
so  few,  that  the  order  was  disregarded  and  the 
fleeing  band  allowed  to  pass  through. 

The  men's  faces  were  black  with  powder. 
They  had  bitten  cartridges  until  there  was  a 
deep  black  circle  around  their  mouths.  The 
burnt  powder  from  the  ramrods  had  blackened 
their  hands,  and  in  their  efforts  to  remove  the 
perspiration  from  their  faces  they  had  com 
pleted  the  coloring  from  the  roots  of  the  hair 
to  the  chin.  Here  was  no  place  for  rest,  how 
ever,  as  the  enemy's  battery  behind  the  creek 
on  the  opposite  hills,  having  gotten  the  range, 
was  pouring  in  a  lively  fire.  Soon  after  pass 
ing  the  brow  of  the  hill  darkness  came  on. 
Groups  of  men  from  the  battalion  halted  on  the 
roadside,  near  a  framed  building  of  some  sort, 
and  commenced  shouting,  "  Fall  in,  Howitzers !  " 
"  This  way,  Garber's  men  !  "  "  Fry's  battery  !  " 
"  Fall  in  !  "  "  Cutshaw's  battalion,  fall  in  here !  " 
thus  of  their  own  accord  trying  to  recover  the 
organization  from  its  disorder.  Quite  a  num 
ber  of  the  battalion  got  together,  and  in  spite 
of  hunger,  thirst,  defeat,  and  dreadful  weari 
ness,  pushed  on  to  the  High  Bridge.  So  anxious 
were  the  men  to  escape  capture  and  the  insinu 
ation  of  desertion,  that  when  threatened  with 


142    '  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

shooting  by  the  rear  guard  if  they  did  not  move 
on  they  scarcely  turned  to  see  who  spoke  :  but 
the  simple  announcement,  "  The  Yankees  are 
coming  !  "  gave  them  a  little  new  strength,  and 
again  they  struggled  painfully  along,  dropping  in 
the  road  sound  asleep,  however,  at  the  slightest 
halt  of  the  column. 

At  the  bridge  there  was  quite  a  halt,  and  in 
the  darkness  the  men  commenced  calling  to 
each  other  by  name  —  the  rascally  infantry 
around,  still  ready  for  fun,  answering  for  every 
name.  Brother  called  brother,  comrade  called 
comrade,  friend  called  friend ;  and  there  were 
many  happy  reunions  there  that  night.  Some 
alas!  of  the  best  and  bravest  did  not  answer 
the  cry  of  anxious  friends. 

Before  the  dawn  of  day  the  column  was 
again  in  motion.  What  strange  sensations  the 
men  had  as  they  marched  slowly  across  the 
High  Bridge.  They  knew  its  great  height,  but 
the  night  was  so  dark  that  they  could  not  see 
the  abyss  on  either  side.  Arrived  on  the  other 
side,  the  worn-out  soldiers  fell  to  the  ground 
and  slept,  more  dead  than  alive.  Some  had 
slept  as  they  marched  across  the  bridge,  and 
declared  that  they  had  no  distinct  recollection 
of  when  they  left  it,  or  how  long  they  were 
upon  it. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  the  march 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  143 

was  resumed  and  continued  through  Farmville, 
across  the  bridge  and  to  Cumberland  Heights, 
overlooking  the  town.  Here,  on  the  bare  hill 
side,  a  line  of  battle  was  formed,  for  -what  pur 
pose  the  men  did  not  know  —  the  Howitzers 
occupying  a  central  place  in  the  line,  and 
standing  with  their  feet  in  the  rnidst  of  a  num 
ber  of  the  graves  of  soldiers  who  had  perished 
in  the  hospitals  in  the  town. 

While  standing  thus  in  line  a  detail  was  sent 
into  the  town  to  hunt  up  some  rations.  They 
found  a  tierce  of  bacon  surrounded  by  a  raven 
ous  crowd,  fighting  and  quarreling.  The  man 
on  duty  guarding  the  bacon  was  quickly  over 
powered,  and  the  bacon  distributed  to  the 
crowd.  The  detail  secured  a  piece  and  marched 
back  triumphantly  to  their  waiting  comrades. 

After  considerable  delay  the  line  broke  into 
column  and  marched  away  in  the  direction  of 
Curdsville.  It  was  on  this  march  that  Cut- 
shavv's  battalion  showed  itself  proof  against  the 
demoralization  which  was  appearing,  and  re 
ceived,  almost  from  the  lips  of  the  Commander- 
in-Chief,  a  compliment  of  which  any  regiment 
in  the  army  might  be  proud. 

All  along  the  line  of  march  the  enemy's  cav 
alry  followed  close  on  the  flanks  of  the  column, 
and  whenever  an  opportunity  offered  swooped 
down  upon  the  trains.  Whenever  this  occurred 


144  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

the  battalion,  with  the  division,  was  faced  to 
wards  the  advancing  cavalry,  and  marched  in 
line  to  meet  them,  generally  repulsing  them 
with  ease.  In  one  of  these  attacks  the  cavalry 
approached  so  near  the  column  that  a  dash  was 
made  at  them,  and  the  infantry  returned  to  the 
road  with  General  Gregg,  of  the  enemy's  cav 
alry,  a  prisoner.  He  was  splendidly  equipped 
and  greatly  admired  by  the  ragged  crowd 
around  him.  He  was,  or  pretended  to  be, 
greatly  surprised  at  his  capture.  When  the 
column  had  reached  a  point  two  or  three  miles 
beyond  Farmville,  it  was  found  that  the  enemy 
was  driving  in  the  force  which  was  protecting 
the  marching  column  and  trains.  The  troops 
hurrying  back  were  panic-stricken  ;  all  efforts 
to  rally  them  were  vain,  and  the  enemy  was 
almost  upon  the  column.  General  Gordon  or 
dered  General  Walker  to  form  his  division  and 
drive  the  enemy  back  from  the  road.  The 
division  advanced  gallantly,  and  conspicuous  in 
the  charge  was  Cutshaw's  battalion.  When 
the  line  was  formed,  the  battalion  occupied  ris 
ing  ground  on  the  right.  The  line  was  visible 
for  a  considerable  distance.  In  rear  of  the  bat 
talion  there  was  a  group  of  unarmed  men  under 
command  of  Sergeant  Ellett,  of  the  Howitzers. 
In  the  distribution  of  muskets  at  Amelia  Court 
House  the  supply  fell  short  of  the  demand,  and 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  145 

this  squad  had  made  the  trip  so  far  unarmed. 
Some,  too,  had  been  compelled  to  ground  their 
arms  at  Sailor's  Creek.  A  few  yards  to  the 
left  and  rear  of  the  battalion,  in  the  road,  was 
General  Lee,  surrounded  by  a  number  of  offi 
cers,  gazing  eagerly  about  him.  An  occasional 
musket  ball  whistled  over,  but  there  was  no 
enemy  in  sight.  In  the  midst  of  this  quiet  a 
general  officer,  at  the  left  and  rear  of  the  bat 
talion,  fell  from  his  horse,  severely  wounded. 
A  messenger  was  sent  from  the  group  in  the 
road  to  ask  the  extent  of  his  injury.  After  a 
short  while  the  enemy  appeared,  and  the  stam 
peded  troops  came  rushing  by.  Cutshaw's  bat 
talion  stood  firmly  and  quietly,  as  if  on  parade, 
awaiting  orders.  General  officers  galloped 
about,  begging  the  fleeing  men  to  halt,  but  in 
vain.  Several  of  the  fugitives,  as  they  passed 
the  battalion,  were  collared  by  the  disarmed 
squad,  relieved  of  their  muskets  and  ammuni 
tion,  and  with  a  kick  allowed  to  proceed  to  the 
rear.  There  was  now  between  the  group  in 
the  road  and  the  enemy  only  the  battalion  of 
improvised  infantry.  There  they  stood,  on  the 
crest  of  the  hill,  in  sharp  relief.  Not  a  man 
moved  from  his  place.  Did  they  know  the 
Great  Commander  was  watching  them  ?  Some 
one  said,  "  Forward !  "  The  cry  passed  from 
lip  to  lip,  and,  with  cheers,  the  battalion  moved 


146  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

rapidly  to  meet  the  enemy,  while  the  field  was 
full  of  the  stampeded  troops  making  to  the 
rear.  A  courier  came  out  with  orders  to  stop 
the  advance,  but  they  heeded  him  not.  Again 
he  came,  but  on  they  went.  Following  the  line 
was  the  unarmed  squad,  unable  to  do  more  than 
swell  the  volume  of  the  wild  shouts  of  their 
comrades.  Following  them,  also,  was  the  com 
missary  department,  consisting  of  two  men, 
with  a  piece  of  bacon  swung  on  a  pole  between 
them,  yelling  and  hurrahing.  As  the  line  ad 
vanced,  the  blue-jackets  sprang  up  and  ran 
through  the  broom -straw  like  hares,  followed 
by  a  shower  of  balls.  Finally  an  officer  —  some 
say  General  Gordon,  and  others  an  aide  of  Long- 
street's  —  rode  out  to  the  front  of  the  battalion, 
ordered  a  halt,  and  in  the  name  of  General  Lee 
thanked  the  men  for  their  gallant  conduct  and 
complimented  them  in  handsome  style.  His 
words  were  greeted  with  loud  cheers,  and  the 
battalion  marched  back  to  the  road  carrying 
several  prisoners  and  having  retaken  two  pieces 
of  artillery  which  had  been  abandoned  to  the 
enemy.  After  the  enemy. was  driven  back  out 
of  reach  of  our  trains  and  column  of  march,  and 
the  troops  were  in  line  of  battle,  General  Lee 
in  person  rode  up  in  rear  of  the  division,  and 
addressing  himself  directly  to  the  men  in  ranks 
(a  thing  very  unusual  with  him)  used  language 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  147 

to  this  effect :  "  That  is  right,  men  ;  that  is  all 
I  want  you  to  do.  Just  keep  those  people  back 
awhile.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  expose  your 
selves  to  unnecessary  danger."  Mahone's  di 
vision  then  coining  up  took  the  place  of  Walk 
er's,  and  the  march  was  resumed.  The  battalion 
passed  on,  the  men  cutting  slices  from  their 
piece  of  bacon  and  eagerly  devouring  them. 
As  night  came  on  the  signs  of  disaster  increased. 
At  several  places  whole  trains  were  standing 
in  the  road  abandoned  ;  artillery,  chopped  down 
and  burning,  blocked  the  way,  and  wagon- 
loads  of  ammunition  were  dumped  out  in  the 
road  and  trampled  under  foot.  There  were 
abundant  signs  of  disaster.  So  many  muskets 
were  dropped  on  the  road  that  Cutshaw's  un 
armed  squad  armed  itself  with  abandoned  mus 
kets,  ammunition,  and  equipments. 

There  was  a  halt  during  the  night  in  a  piece 
of  stunted  woods.  The  land  was  low  and  sobby. 
In  the  road  passing  through  the  woods  were 
several  batteries,  chopped  down  and  deserted. 
There  was  a  little  flour  on  hand,  which  had 
been  picked  up  on  the  road.  An  oil-cloth  was 
spread,  the  flour  placed  on  it,  water  was  found, 
and  the  dough  mixed.  Then  some  clean  parti 
tion  boards  were  knocked  out  of  a  limber  chest, 
the  dough  was  spread  on  them  and  held  near 
the  fire  till  partially  cooked.  Then  with  what 
delight  it  was  devoured  ! 


148  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

At  daybreak,  Saturday,  the  march  was  re 
sumed,  and  continued  almost  without  interrup 
tion  during  the  whole  day  ;  the  men,  those 
whose  gums  and  teeth  were  not  already  too 
sore,  crunching  parched  corn  and  raw  bacon  as 
they  trudged  along.  Saturday  night  the  bat 
talion  rested  near  Appomattox  Court  House,  in 
a  pine  woods.  Sunday  morning,  April  9th, 
after  a  short  march,  the  column  entered  the 
village  of  Appomattox  Court  House  by  what 
seemed  to  be  the  main  road.  Several  dead 
men,  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  United  States 
regular  artillery,  were  lying  on  the  roadside, 
their  faces  turned  up  to  the  blaze  of  the  sun. 
One  had  a  ghastly  wound  in  the  breast,  which 
must  have  been  made  by  grape  or  canister. 

On  through  the  village  without  halting 
marched  the  column.  "  Whitworth "  shots 
went  hurtling  through  the  air  every  few  min 
utes,  indicating  very  clearly  that  the  enemy 
was  ahead  of  the  column  and  awaiting  its 
arrival.  On  the  outskirts  of  the  village  the 
line  of  battle  was  formed.  Indeed,  there 
seemed  to  be  two  lines,  one  slightly  in  advance 
of  the  other.  Wagons  passed  along  the  line  and 
dropped  boxes  of  cartridges.  The  men  were 
ordered  to  knock  them  open  and  supply  them 
selves  with  forty  rounds  each.  They  filled 
their  breeches'  pockets  to  the  brim.  The  gen- 


IMPROVISED  INFANTRY.  149 

eral  officers  galloped  up  and  down  the  line, 
apparently  hurrying  everything  as  much  as  pos 
sible.  The  shots  from  a  battery  in  advance 
were  continually  passing  over  the  line,  going  in 
the  direction  of  the  village,  but  without  harm 
to  any  one.  The  more  experienced  men  pre 
dicted  a  severe  struggle.  It  was  supposed  that 
this  was  to  be  an  attack  with  the  whole  army 
in  mass,  for  the  purpose  of  breaking  through 
the  enemy's  line  and  making  one  more  effort 
to  move  on. 

Finally  the  order  "  Forward  !"  ran  along  the 
line,  and  as  it  advanced  the  chiefs  of  de 
tachments,  gunners,  and  commissioned  officers 
marched  in  rear,  keeping  up  a  continual  cry  of 
"  Close  up,  men  ;  close  up  !  "  "  Go  ahead,  now  ; 
don't  lag  !  "  "  Keep  up !  "  Thus  marching,  the 
line  entered  a  body  of  woods,  proceeded  some 
distance,  changed  direction  to  the  left,  and, 
emerging  from  the  woods,  halted  in  a  large  open 
field,  beyond  which  was  another  body  of  woods 
which  concealed  further  view  in  front. 

After  some  delay,  a  detail  for  skirmish  duty 
was  ordered.  Captain  Jones  detailed  four  men, 
Fry  and  Garber  the  same  number.  Lieutenant 
Mcliae  was  placed  in  command.  The  infantry 
detailed  skirmishers  for  their  front.  All  ar 
rangements  completed,  the  men  deployed  and 
entered  the  woods.  They  had  advanced  but 


150  SOLD1EK   LIFE. 

a  short  distance,  when  they  encountered  a  strong 
line  of  picket  posts.  Firing  and  cheering  they 
rushed  on  the  surprised  men,  who  scampered 
away,  leaving  all  their  little  conveniences  be 
hind  them,  and  retreating  for  about  a  mile. 
From  this  point  large  bodies  of  the  enemy  were 
visible,  crowding  the  hill-tops  like  a  blue  or 
black  cloud.  It  was  not  many  minutes  before 
a  strong  line  of  dismounted  cavalry,  followed 
by  mounted  men,  deployed  from  this  mass  to 
cover  the  retreat  of  their  fleeing  brethren, 
and  restore  the  picket  line.  They  came  down  the 
hills  and  across  the  fields,  firing  as  they  came. 
On  looking  around  to  see  what  were  the  chances 
for  making  a  stand,  Lieutenant  McRae  found 
that  the  infantry  skirmishers  had  been  with 
drawn.  The  officer  who  had  commanded  them 
could  be  seen  galloping  away  in  the  distance. 
The  little  squad,  knowing  they  were  alone,  kept 
up  a  brisk  fire  on  the  advancing  enemy,  till  he 
was  close  up  in  front,  and  well  to  the  rear  of 
both  flanks.  On  the  left,  not  more  than  two 
hundred  yards,  a  column  of  cavalry,  marching 
by  twos,  had  crossed  the  line  and  were  still 
marching,  as  unconcernedly  as  possible,  to  the 
rear  of  McRae.  Seeing  this,  McRae  ordered 
his  squad  to  retire,  saying  at  the  same  time, 
"  But  don't  let  them  see  you  running,  boys !  " 
So  they  retired,  slowly,  stubbornly,  and  re- 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  151 

turning  shot  for  shot  with  the  enemy,  who  came 
on  at  a  trot,  cheering  valiantly,  as  they  pursued 
four  men  and  a  lieutenant.  The  men  dragged 
the  butts  of  their  old  muskets  behind  them, 
loading  as  they  walked.  All  loaded,  they 
turned,  halted,  fired,  received  a  shower  of  balls 
in  return,  and  then  again  moved  doggedly  to 
the  rear.  A  little  lieutenant  of  infantry,  who 
had  been  on  the  skirmish  line,  joined  the  squad. 
He  was  armed  with  a  revolver,  and  had  his 
sword  by  his  side.  Stopping  behind  the  corner 
of  a  corn-crib  he  swore  he  would  not  go  any 
further  to  the  rear.  The  squad  moved  on  and 
left  him  standing  there,  pistol  in  hand,  waiting 
for  the  enemy,  who  were  now  jumping  the 
fences  and  coming  across  the  field,  running  at 
the  top  of  their  speed.  What  became  of  this 
singular  man  no  one  knows.  He  was,  as  he 
said,  "  determined  to  make  a  stand."  A  little 
further  on  the  squad  found  a  single  piece  of 
artillery,  manned  by  a  lieutenant  and  two  or 
three  men.  They  were  selecting  individuals  in 
the  enemy's  skirmish  line,  and  firing  at  them 
with  solid  shot !  Lieutenant  McRae  laughed  at 
the  ridiculous  sight,  remonstrated  with  the  offi 
cer,  and  offered  his  squad  to  serve  the  gun,  if 
there  was  any  canister  in  the  limber  chest.  The 
offer  was  refused,  and  again  the  squad  moved 
on.  Passing  a  cow-shed  about  this  time,  the 


152  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

squad  halted  to  look  with  horror  upon  several 
dead  and  wounded  Confederates  who  lay  there 
upon  the  manure  pile.  They  had  suffered 
wounds  and  death  upon  this  the  last  day  of  their 
country's  struggle.  Their  wounds  had  received 
no  attention,  and  those  living  were 'famished 
and  burning  with  fever. 

Lieutenant  McRae,  noticing  a  number  of 
wagons  and  guns  parked  in  a  field  near  by,  sur 
prised  at  what  he  considered  great  carelessness 
in  the  immediate  presence  of  the  enemy,  ap 
proached  an  officer  on  horseback  and  said,  in 
his  usual  impressive  manner,  "  I  say  there, 
what  does  this  mean  ?  "  The  man  took  his 
hand  and  quietly  said, "  We  have  surrendered." 
"  I  don't  believe  it,  sir  !  "  replied  McRae,  strut 
ting  around  as  mad  as  a  hornet.  "  You  mustn't 
talk  so,  sir  !  you  will  demoralize  my  men  !  "  He 
was  soon  convinced,  however,  by  seeing  Yankee 
cavalrymen  walking  their  horses  around  as  com 
posedly  as  though  the  Army  of  Northern  Vir 
ginia  had  never  existed.  To  say  that  McRae 
was  surprised,  disgusted,  indignant,  and  incredu 
lous,  is  a  mild  way  of  expressing  his  state  of 
mind  as  he  turned  to  his  squad  and  said, 
"  Well,  boys,  it  must  be  so,  but  it '«  very 
strange  behavior.  Let 's  move  on  and  see  about 
it."  As  though  dreaming,  the  squad  and  the 
disgusted  officer  moved  on. 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  153 

Learning  that  the  army  had  gone  into  camp, 
the  skirmishers  went  on  in  the  direction  of  the 
village,  and  found  the  battalion  in  the  woods 
near  the  main  road.  Fires  were  burning,  and 
those  who  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  find 
anything  eatable  were  cooking.  Federal  troops 
were  riding  up  and  down  the  road  and  loafing 
about  the  camps  trying  to  be  familiar.  They 
seemed  to  think  that  "  How  are  you,  Johnny?  " 
spoken  in  condescending  style,  was  sufficient 
introduction. 

During  the  day  a  line  of  men  came  single  file 
over  the  hill  near  the  camp,  each  bearing  on 
his  shoulder  a  box  of  "  hard-tack  "  or  crack 
ers.  Behind  these  came  a  beef,  driven  by  sol 
diers.  The  crackers  and  beef  were  a  present 
from  the  Federal  troops  near,  who,  knowing  the 
famishing  condition  of  the  surrounded  army, 
had  contributed  their  day's  rations  for  its  relief. 
All  honor  to  them.  It  was  a  soldierly  act 
which  was  thoroughly  appreciated. 

The  beef  was  immediately  shot  and  butch 
ered,  and  before  the  animal  heat  had  left  the 
meat,  it  was  impaled  in  little  strips  on  sticks, 
bayonets,  swords,  and  pocket-knives,  and  roast 
ing  over  the  fires. 

Though  numbers  of  the  enemy  visited  the 
camps  and  plied  the  men  with  all  sorts  of  ques 
tions,  seeming  very  curious  and  inquisitive,  not 


154  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

an  unkind  word  was  said  on  either  side  that 
day.  When  the  skirmishers  under  McRae  en 
tered  the  camp  of  the  battalion,  their  enthusias 
tic  descriptions  of  driving  the  enemy  and  being 
driven  in  turn  failed  to  produce  any  effect. 
Many  of  the  men  were  sobbing  and  crying,  like 
children  recovering  from  convulsions  of  grief 
after  a  severe  whipping.  They  were  sorely 
grieved,  mortified,  and  humiliated.  Of  course 
they  had  not  the  slightest  conception  of  the 
numbers  of  the  enemy  who  surrounded  them. 

Other  men  fairly  raved  with  indignation,  and 
declared  their  desire  to  escape  or  die  in  the  at 
tempt  ;  but  not  a  man  was  heard  to  blame  Gen 
eral  Lee.  On  the  contrary,  all  expressed  the 
greatest  sympathy  for  him  and  declared  their 
willingness  to  submit  at  once,  or  fight  to  the 
last  man,  as  he  ordered.  At  no  period  of  the 
war  was  he  held  in  higher  veneration  or  re 
garded  with  more  sincere  affection,  than  on 
that  sad  and  tearful  day. 

In  the  afternoon  the  little  remnant  of  the 
army  was  massed  in  a  field.  General  Gordon 
spoke  to  them  most  eloquently,  and  bade  them 
farewell.  General  Walker  addressed  his  divis 
ion,  to  which  Cutshaw's  battalion  was  attached, 
bidding  them  farewell.  In  the  course  of  his 
remarks  he  denounced  fiercely  the  men  who 
had  thrown  down  their  arms  on  the  march,  and 


IMPROVISED   INFANTRY.  155 

called  upon  the  true  men  before  him  to  go  home 
and  tell  their  wives,  mothers,  sisters,  and  sweet 
hearts  how  shamefully  these  cowards  had  be 
haved. 

General  Henry  A.  Wise  also  spoke,  sitting 
on  his  horse  and  bending  forward  over  the  pom 
mel  of  his  saddle.  Referring  to  the  surrender, 
he  said,  "  I  would  rather  have  embraced  the 
tabernacle  of  death." 

There  were  many  heaving  bosoms  and  tear- 
stained  faces  during  the  speaking.  A  tall, 
manly  fellow,  with  his  colors  pressed  to  his  side, 
stood  near  General  Gordon,  convulsed  with 
grief. 

The  speaking  over,  the  assembly  dispersed, 
and  once  more  the  camp-fires  burned  brightly. 
Night  brought  long-needed  rest.  The  heroes 
of  many  hard-fought  battles,  the  conquerors  of 
human  nature's  cravings,  the  brave  old  army, 
fell  asleep  —  securely  guarded  by  the  encircling 
hosts  of  the  enemy.  Who  will  write  the  his 
tory  of  that  march  ?  Who  will  be  able  to  tell 
the  story  ?  Alas  !  how  many  heroes  fell ! 

The  paroles,  which  were  distributed  on  Tues 
day,  the  llth,  were  printed  on  paper  about  the 
size  of  an  ordinary  bank  check,  with  blank 
spaces  for  the  date,  name  of  the  prisoner,  com 
pany,  and  regiment,  and  signature  of  the  com 
mandant  of  the  company  or  regiment.  They 
12 


1")6  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

were  signed  by  the  Confederate  officers  them 
selves,  and  were  as  much  respected  by  all 
picket  officers,  patrols,  etc.,  of  the  Federal 
army  as  though  they  bore  the  signature  of  U. 
S.  Grant.  The  following  is  a  copy  of  one  of 
these  paroles,  recently  made  from  the  original  : 

APPOMATTOX  COURT  HOUSE,  VIRGINIA, 

April  10,  1865. 

The  bearer,  Private ,  of  Second  Com 
pany  Howitzers,  Cutshaw's  Battalion,  a  paroled  pris 
oner  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  has  permis 
sion  to  go  to  his  home  and  there  remain  undisturbed. 

L.  F.  JONES, 

Captain  Commanding  Second  Company  Howitzers. 

The  "  guidon,"  or  color-bearer,  of  the  Howit 
zers  had  concealed  the  battle  flag  of  the  com 
pany  about  his  person,  and  before  the  final  sep 
aration  cut  it  into  pieces  of  about  four  by  six 
inches,  giving  each  man  present  a  piece.  Many 
of  these  scraps  of  faded  silk  are  still  preserved, 
and  will  be  handed  down  to  future  generations. 
Captain  Fry,  who  commanded  after  Colonel 
Cutshaw  was  wounded,  assembled  the  battalion, 
thanked  the  men  for  their  faithfulness,  bid  them 
farewell,  and  read  the  following  :  — 

HEADQUARTERS  ARMY  NORTHERN  VIRGINIA, 

APPOMATTOX  COURT  HOUSE,  April  10,  1865. 

GENERAL  ORDER  No.  9. 

After  four  years  of   arduous  service,  marked   by 


IMPROVISED    INFANTRY.  157 

unsurpassed  courage  and  fortitude,  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  has  been  compelled  to  yield  to 
overwhelming  numbers  and  resources. 

I  need  not  tell  the  brave  survivors  of  so  many 
hard-fought  battles,  who  have  remained  steadfast  to 
the  last,  that  I  have  consented  to  this  result  from  no 
distrust  of  them ;  but  feeling  that  valor  and  devotion 
could  accomplish  nothing  that  would  compensate  for 
the  loss  that  must  have  attended  a  continuance  of  the 
contest,  I  determined  to  avoid  the  useless  sacrifice  of 
those  whose  past  services  have  endeared  them  to 
their  countrymen. 

By  the  terms  of  agreement,  officers  and  men  can 
return  to  their  homes  and  remain  until  exchanged. 
You  will  take  with  you  the  satisfaction  that  proceeds 
from  the  consciousness  of  duty  faithfully  performed, 
and  I  earnestly  pray  that  a  merciful  God  will  extend 
to  you  his  blessing  and  protection. 

With  an  unceasing  admiration  of  your  constancy 
and  devotion  to  your  country,  and  a  grateful  remem 
brance  of  your  kind  and  generous  consideration  for 
myself,  I  bid  you  all  an  affectionate  farewell. 

R.  E.  LEE. 

This  grand  farewell  from  the  man  who  had 
in  the  past  personified  the  glory  of  his  army 
and  now  bore  its  grief  in  his  own  great  heart, 
was  the  signal  for  tearful  partings.  Comrades 
wept  as  they  gazed  upon  each  other,  and  with 
choking  voices  said,  farewell !  And  so  —  they 
parted.  Little,  groups  of  two  or  three  or  four, 


158  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

without  food,  without  money,  but  with  "  the 
satisfaction  that  proceeds  from  the  conscious 
ness  of  duty  faithfully  performed,"  were  soon 
plodding  their  way  homeward. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"  BRAVE   SUIIVIVOES  "    HOMEWAED   BOUND. 

BITTER  grief  for  the  past,  which  seemed  to 
be  forever  lost,  and  present  humiliation,  could 
not  long  suppress  the  anxious  thought  and 
question,  "What  now?"  The  discussion  of 
the  question  brought  relief  from  the  horrid  feel 
ing  of  vacuity  which  oppressed  the  soldier  and 
introduced  him  to  the  new  sensations  of  liberty 
of  choice,  freedom  of  action  —  full  responsibil 
ity.  For  capital  he  had  a  clear  conscience,  a 
brave  heart,  health,  strength,  and  a  good  rec 
ord.  With  these  he  sought  his  home. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  the 
12th  of  April,  without  the  stirring  drum  or  the 
bugle  call  of  old,  the  camp  awoke  to  the  new 
life.  Whether  or  not  they  had  a  country  these 
soldiers  did  not  know.  Home  to  many,  when 
they  reached  it,  was  graves  and  ashes.  At  any 
rate  there  must  be,  somewhere  on  earth,  a  bet 
ter  place  than  a  muddy,  smoky  camp  in  a  piece 
of  scrubby  pines  —  better  company  than  gloomy, 
hungry  comrades  and  inquisitive  enemies,  and 
something  in  the  future  more  exciting,  if  not 


160  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

more  hopeful,  than  nothing  to  eat,  nowhere 
to  sleep,  nothing  to  do,  and  nowhere  to  go. 
The  disposition  to  start  was  apparent,  and  the 
preparations  were  promptly  begun. 

To  roll  up  the  old  blanket  and  oil-cloth, 
gather  up  the  haversack,  canteen,  axe,  perhaps, 
and  a  few  trifles,  in  tinif3  of  peace  of  no  value, 
eat  the  fragments  that  remained,  and  light  a 
pipe,  was  the  work  of  a  few  moments.  This 
slight  employment,  coupled  with  pleasant  an 
ticipations  of  the  unknown,  and  therefore  possi 
bly  enjoyable  future,  served  to  restore  some 
what  the  usual  light-hearted  manner  of  soldiers, 
and  relieve  the  final  farewells  of  much  of  their 
sadness.  There  was  even  a  smack  of  hope  and 
cheerfulness  as  the  little  groups  sallied  out  into 
the  world  to  combat  they  scarcely  knew  what. 
As  we  cannot  follow  all  these  groups,  we  will 
join  ourselves  to  one  and  see  them  home. 

Two  "  brothers -in -arms,"  whose  objective 
point  is  Richmond,  take  the  road  OH  foot. 
They  have  nothing  to  eat  and  no  money.  They 
are  bound  for  their  home  in  a  city,  which,  when 
they  last  heard  from  it,  was  in  flames.  What 
they  will  see  when  they  arrive  there  they  can 
not  imagine ;  but  the  instinctive  love  of  home 
urges  them.  They  walk  on  steadily  and  rapidly 
and  are  not  diverted  by  surroundings.  It  does 
not  even  occur  to  them  that  their  situation,  sur- 


BRAVE   SURVIVORS   HOMEWARD   BOUND.        161 

rounded  on  all  sides  by  armed  enemies  and 
walking  a  road  crowded  with-  them,  is  at  all 
novel.  They  are  suddenly  roused  to  a  sense  of 
their  situation  by  a  sharp  "  Halt !  show  your 
parole  !  "  They  had  struck  the  cordon  of  picket 
posts  which  surrounded  the  surrendered  army. 
It  was  the  first  exercise  of  authority  by  the 
Federal  army.  A  sergeant,  accompanied  by  a 
couple  of  muskets,  stepped  into  the  road,  with 
a  modest  air  examined  the  paroles  and  said 
quietly,  "  Pass  on." 

The  strictly  military  part  of  the  operation 
being  over,  the  social  commenced.  As  the  two 
"survivors"  moved  on  they  were  followed  by 
numerous  remarks,  such  as  u  Hello !  Johnny,  I 
say  !  going -home  ?  "  "  Ain't  you  glad  !  "  They 
made  no  reply,  these  wayfarers,  but  they 
thought  some  very  emphatic  remarks. 

From  this  point  "On  to  Richmond!"  was 
the  grand  thought.  Steady  work  it  was.  The 
road,  strangely  enough  considering  the  prox 
imity  of  two  armies,  was  quite  lonesome,  and 
not  an  incident  of  interest  occurred  during  the 
day.  Darkness  found  the  two  comrades  still 
pushing  on. 

Some  time  after  dark  a  light  was  seen  a 
short  distance  ahead  and  there  was  a  "sound  of 
revelry."  On  approaching,  the  light  was  found 
to  proceed  from  a  large  fire,  built  on  the  floor 


162  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

of  an  old  and  dilapidated  outhouse,  and  sur 
rounded  by  a  ragged,  hungry,  singing,  and  jolly 
crowd  of  paroled  prisoners  of  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia,  who  had  gotten  possession 
of  a  quantity  of  corn  meal  and  were  waiting  for 
the  ash-cakes  then  in  the  ashes.  Being  liberal, 
they  offered  the  new-comers  some  of  their 
bread.  Being  hungry,  the  "  survivors  "  ac 
cepted  —  and  eat  their  first  meal  that  day. 
Here  seemed  a  good  place  to  spend  the  night, 
but  the  party  in  possession  were  so  noisy,  and 
finally  so  quarrelsome  and  disagreeable  gener 
ally,  that  the  "  survivors,"  after  a  short  rest, 
pushed  on  in  the  darkness,  determined,  if  pos 
sible,  to  find  some  shelter  more  quiet.  The  re 
sult  was  a  night  march,  which  was  continued 
till  the  morning  dawned. 

Thursday  morning  they  entered  the  village  of 
Buckingham  Court  House,  and  traded  a  small 
pocket  mirror  for  a  substantial  breakfast.  There 
was  quite  a  crowd  of  soldiers  gathered  around 
a  cellar  door,  trying  to  persuade  an  ex-Confed 
erate  A.  A.  A.  Commissary  of  Subsistence  that 
he  might  as  well,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the 
army  had  surrendered,  let  them  have  some  of 
his  stores ;  and,  after  considerable  persuasion 
and  some  threats,  he  relinquished  the  hope  of 
keeping  them  for  himself,  and  told  the  men  to 
help  themselves.  They  did  so. 


BRAVE  SURVIVORS  HOMEWARD  BOUND.    163 

The  people  of  the  village  did  not  exactly 
doubt  the  fact  of  the  surrender,  but  evidently 
thought  matters  had  been  somewhat  exaggerated, 
facts  suppressed,  and  everything  allowed  to  fall 
into  a  very  doubtful  condition.  Confederate 
money  would  not  pass,  however ;  that  was  set 
tled  beyond  doubt. 

As  the  two  tramps  were  about  to  leave  the 
village,  and  were  hurrying  along  the  high  road 
which  led  through  it,  they  saw  a  solitary  horse 
man  approaching  from  their  rear.  It  was  easy 
to  recognize  at  once  General  Lee.  He  rode 
slowly,  calmly  along.  As  he  passed  an  old 
tavern  on  the  roadside,  some  ladies  and  children 
waved  their  handkerchiefs,  smiled,  and  wept. 
The  General  turned  his  eyes  to  the  porch  on 
which  they  stood,  and  slowly  putting  his  hand 
to  his  hat,  raised  it  slightly,  and  as  slowly  again 
dropped  his  hand  to  his  side.  The  survivors 
did  not  weep,  but  they  had  strange  sensations. 
They  pushed  on,  steering,  so  to  speak,  for  Car- 
tersville  and  the  ferry. 

Before  leaving  the  village  it  was  the  sad  duty 
of  the  survivors  to  stop  at  the  humble  abode  of 
Mrs.  P.,  and  tell  her  of  the  death  of  her  hus 
band,  who  fell  mortally  wounded,  pierced  by  a 
musket  ball,  near  Sailor's  Creek.  She  was  also 
told  that  a  comrade  who  was  by  his  side  when 
he  fell,  but  who  was  not  able  to  stay  with  him, 


164  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

would  come  along  soon  and  give  her  the  partic 
ulars.  That  comrade  came  and  repeated  the 
story.  In  a  few  days  the  "dead  man  "  reached 
home  alive  and  scarcely  hurt.  He  was  originally 
an  infantryman,  recently  transferred  to  artillery, 
and  therefore  wore  a  small  knapsack,  as  infan 
trymen  did.  The  ball  struck  the  knapsack  with 
a  u  whack  !  "  and  knocked  the  man  down.  That 
was  all. 

Some  time  during  the  night  the  travelers 
reached  the  ferry  at  Cartersville.  Darkness 
and  silence  prevailed  there.  Loud  and  contin 
ued  shouts  brought  no  ferryman,  and  eager 
searchings  revealed  no  boat.  The  depth  of  the 
water  being  a  thing  unknown  and  not  easily 
found  out,  it  was  obviously  prudent  to  camp  for 
the  night. 

On  the  river's  edge  there  was  -in  old  building 
which  seemed  a  brick  one  ;  one  wall  near  the 
water's  edge.  A  flight  of  steep,  rough  steps 
led  to  an  open  door  on  the  second  floor.  Up 
these  steps  climbed  the  weary  men.  Inside 
there  was  absolute  darkness,  but  there  was 
shelter  from  the  wind.  Feeling  about  on  the 
floor  they  satisfied  themselves  of  its  cleanliness 
and  dryness.  The  faithful  old  blankets  were 
once  more  spread,  their  owners  laid  down  and 
at  once  fell  into  a  deep  sleep  which  was  not 
broken  till  morning.  The  room  was  surpris- 


BRAVE   SURVIVORS   HOMEWARD   BOUND.        165 

ingly  small.  When  the  soldiers  entered  they 
had  no  idea  of  the  size  of  it,  and  went  to  sleep 
with  the  impression  that  it  was  very  large. 
The  morning  revealed  its  dimensions  —  about 
ten  by  twelve  feet.  The  ferryman  was  early 
at  his  post,  and  put  the  travelers  across  cheer 
fully  without  charge. 


Soon  after  crossing,  a  good  silver-plated  ta 
ble-spoon,  bearing  the  monogram  of  one  of 
the  travelers,  purchased  from  an  aged  colored 
woman  a  large  chunk  of  ash-cake  and  about  half 
a  gallon  of  buttermilk.  This  old  darkey  had 
lived  in  Richmond  in  her  younger  days.  She 
spoke  of  grown  men  and  women  there  as 
u  children  whar  I  raised."  "  Lord  !  boss,  does 
you  know  Miss  Sadie  ?  Well,  I  nussed  her  and 


166  SOLDIER    LIKE. 

I  missed  all  uv  them  cbillun ;  that  I  did,  sah ! 
Yawl  chillun  does  look  hawngry,  that  you  does. 
Well,  you  's  welcome  to  them  vittles,  and  I  'm 
powful  glad  to  git  dis  spoon.  God  bless  you, 
honey !  "  A  big  log  on  the  roadside  f  urnished 
a  seat  for  the  comfortable  consumption  of  the 
before-mentioned  ash-cake  and  milk.  The  feast 
was  hardly  begun  when  the  tramp  of  a  horse's 
hoofs  was  beard.  Looking  up  the  survivors 
saw,  with  surprise,  General  Lee  approaching. 
He  was  entirely  alone,  and  rode  slowly  nlong. 
Unconscious  that  any  one  saw  him,  he  was  yet 
erect,  dignified,  and  apparently  as  calm  and 
peaceful  as  the  fields  and  woods  around  him. 
Having  caught  sight  of  the  occupants  of  the 
log,  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  them,  and  as  he 
passed,  turned  slightly,  saluted,  and  said,  in  the 
most  gentle  manner  :  "  Good  morning,  gentle 
men  ;  taking  your  breakfast?"  The  soldiers 
had  only  time  to  rise,  salute,  and  say  "  Yes, 
sir  ! "  and  he  was  gone. 

Having  finished  as  far  as  they  were  able  the 
abundant  meal  furnished  by  the  liberality  of 
the  good  "  old  mammy,"  the  travelers  resumed 
their  journey  greatly  refreshed. 

It  seems  that  General  Lee  pursued  the  road 
which  the  survivors  chose,  and,  starting  later 
than  they,  overtook  them,  he  being  mounted 
and  they  on  foot.  At  any  rate,  it  was  their 


GOOD    MORNING,   GENTLEMEN. 


BRAVE  SURVIVORS  HOMEWARD  BOUND.    167 

good  fortune  to  see  him  three  times  between 
Appomattox  and  Richmond.  The  incidents 
introducing  General  Lee  are  peculiarly  inter 
esting,  and  while  the  writer  is  in  doubt  as  to 
the  day  on  which  the  next  and  last  incident 
occurred,  the  reader  may  rest  assured  of  the 
truthfulness  of  the  narration. 

About  the  time  when  men  who  have  eaten 
a  hearty  breakfast  become  again  hungry — as 
good  fortune  would  have  it  happen  —  the  trav 
ellers  reached  a  house  pleasantly  situated,  and 
a  comfortable  place  withal.  Approaching  the 
house  they  were  met  by  an  exceedingly  kind, 
energetic,  and  hospitable  woman.  She  promptly 
asked,  "You  are  not  deserters  ?"  "No,"  said 
the  soldiers,  "  we  have  our  paroles.  We  are 
from  Richmond ;  we  are  homeward  bound,  and 
called  to  ask  if  you  could  spare  us  a  dinner  ?  " 
"Spare  you  a  dinner?  certainly  I  can.  My 
husband  is  a  miller  ;  his  mill  is  right  across  the 
road  there,  down  the  hill,  and  I  have  been  cook 
ing  all  day  for  the  poor  starving  men.  Take 
a  seat  on  the  porch  there  and  I  will  get  you 
something  to  eat."  By  the  time  the  travelers 
were  seated,  this  admirable  woman  was  in  the 
kitchen  at  work.  The  "  pat-a-pat,  pat,  pat,  pat, 
pat-a-pat-a-pat "  of  the  sifter,  and  the  cracking 
and  "fizzing"  of  the  fat  bacon  as  it  fried,  sa 
luted  their  hungry  ears,  and  the  delicious  smell 


168  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

tickled  their  olfactory  nerves  most  delightfully. 
Sitting  thus,  entertained  by  delightful  sounds, 
breathing  the  fragrant  air,  and  wrapped  in 
meditation,  —  or  anticipation  rather,  —  the  sol 
diers  saw  the  dust  rise  in  the  air,  and  heard 
the  sound  of  an  approaching  party. 

Several  horsemen  rode  up  to  the  road-gate, 
threw  their  bridles  over  the  posts  or  tied  to  the 
overhanging  boughs,  and  dismounted.  They 
were  evidently  officers,  well  dressed,  fine  looking 
men,  and  about  to  enter  the  gate.  Almost  at 
once  the  msn  on  the  porch  recognized  General 
Lee  and  his  son.  An  ambulance  had  arrived 
at  the  gate  also.  Without  delay  the  party  en 
tered  and  approached  the  house,  General  Lee 
preceding  the  others.  Satisfied  that  it  was  the 
General's  intention  to  enter  the  house,  the  two 
"  brave  survivors  "  instinctively  and  respect 
fully,  venerating  the  approaching  man,  deter 
mined  to  give  him  and  his  companions  the 
porch.  As  they  were  executing  a  rather  rapid 
and  undignified  flank  movement  to  gain  the 
right  and  rear  of  the  house,  the  voice  of  Gen 
eral  Lee  overhauled  them,  thus  :  "  Where  are 
you  men  going  ?  "  "  This  lady  has  offered  to 
give  us  a  dinner,  and  we  are  waiting  for  it," 
replied  the  soldiers.  "  Well,  you  had  better 
move  on  now  —  this  gentleman  will  have  quite 
a  large  party  on  him  to-day,"  said  the  General. 


BEAVE   SURVIVORS   HOMEWARD   BOUND.        169 

The  soldiers  touched  their  caps,  said  "  Yes, 
sir,"  and  retired,  somewhat  hurt,  to  a  strong 
position  on  a  hencoop  in  the  rear  of  the  house. 
The  party  then  settled  on  the  porch. 

The  General  had,  of  course,  no  authority,  and 
the  surrender  of  the  porch  was  purely  respect 
ful.  Knowing  this  the  soldiers  were  at  first 
hurt,  but  a  moment's  reflection  satisfied  them 
that  the  General  was  right.  He  had  suspicions 
of  plunder,  and  these  were  increased  by  the 
movement  of  the  men  to  the  rear  as  he  ap 
proached.  He  misinterpreted  their  conduct. 

The  lady  of  the  house  ($  reward  for  her 
name!)  hearing  the  dialogue  in  the  yard, 
pushed  her  head  through  the  crack  of  the 
kitchen  door,  and,  as  she  tossed  a  lump  of  dough 
from  hand  to  hand  and  gazed  eagerly  out,  ad 
dressed  the  soldiers  :  "  Ain't  that  old  General 
Lee  ?  "  "  Yes  ;  General  Lee  and  his  son  and 
other  officers  come  to  dine  with  you,"  they  re 
plied.  "  Well,"  she  said,  "  he  ain't  no  better 
than  the  men  that  fought  for  him,  and  I  don't 
reckon  he  is  as  hungry  ;  so  you  just  come  in 
here.  I  am  going  to  give  you  yours  first,  and 
then  I  '11  get  something  for  him  !  " 

What  a  meal  it  was  !  Seated  at  the  kitchen 
table,  the  large-hearted  woman  bustling  about 
and  talking  away,  the  ravenous  tramps  attacked 

a  pile  of  old  Virginia  hoe-cake  and  corn-dodger, 
13 


170  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

a  frying  pan  with  an  inch  of  gravy  and  slices  of 
bacon,  streak  of  lean  and  streak  of  fat,  very 
numerous.  To  finish  —  as  much  rich  butter 
milk  as  the  drinkers  could  contain.  With  many 
heartfelt  thanks  the  survivors  bid  farewell  to 
this  immortal  woman,  and  leaving  the  General 
and  his  party  in  quiet  possession  of  the  front 
porch,  pursued  their  way. 

Night  found  the  survivors  at  the  gate  of  a 
quite  handsome,  framed,  country  residence.  The 
weather  was  threatening,  and  it  was  desirable 
to  have  shelter  as  well  as  rest.  Entering,  and 
knocking  at  the  door,  they  were  met  by  a  ser 
vant  girl.  She  was  sent  to  her  mistress  with  a 
request  for  permission  to  sleep  on  her  premises. 
The  servant  returned,  saying,  "  Mistis  say  she  's 
a  widder,  and  there  ain't  no  gentleman  in  the 
house,  and  she  can't  let  you  come  in."  She 
was  sent  with  a  second  message,  which  informed 
the  lady  that  the  visitors  were  from  Richmond, 
members  of  a  certain  company  from  there,  and 
would  be  content  to  sleep  on  the  porch,  in  the 
stable,  or  in  the  barn.  They  would  protect  her 
property,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

This  brought  the  lady  of  the  house  to  the 
door.  She  said,  "  If  you  are  members  of  the 

— ,   you   must  know   my  nephew;    he 

was  in  that  company."  Of  course  they  knew 
him.  "  Old  chum,"  "  Comrade,"  "  Particular 


BRAVE  SURVIVORS  HOMEWARD  BOUND.   171 

friend,"  "  Splendid  fellow,"  "  Hope  he  was  well 
when  you  heard  from  him.  Glad  to  meet  you, 
madam  ! "  These  and  similar  hearty  expres 
sions  brought  the  longed  for  u  Come  in,  gentle 
men  ;  you  are  welcome.  I  will  see  that  supper 
is  prepared  for  you  at  once."  (Invitation  ac 
cepted.) 

The  old  haversacks  were  deposited  in  a  cor 
ner  under  the  steps,  and  their  owners  conducted 
down-stairs  to  a  spacious  dining-room,  quite 
prettily  furnished.  A  large  table  occupied  the 
centre  of  the  room,  and  at  one  side  there  was  a 
handsome  display  of  silver  in  a  glass-front  case. 
A  good  big  fire  lighted  the  room.  The  lady  sat 
quietly  working  at  some  woman's  work,  and 
from  time  to  time  questioning,  in  a  rather  sus 
picious  manner,  her  guests.  Their  correct  an 
swers  satisfied  her,  and  their  respectful  manner 
reassured  her,  so  that  by  the  time  supper  was 
brought  in  she  was  chatting  and  laughing  with 
her  "  defenders." 

The  supper  came  in  steaming  hot.  It  was 
abundant,  well  prepared,  and  served  elegantly. 
Splendid  coffee,  hot  biscuit,  luscious  butter,  fried 
ham,  eggs,  fresh  milk !  The  writer  could  not 
expect  to  be  believed  if  he  should  tell  the  quan 
tity  eaten  at  that  meal.  The  good  lady  of  the 
house  enjoyed  the  sight.  She  relished  every 
mouthful,  and  no  doubt  realized  then  and  there 


172  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

the  blessing  which  is  conferred  on  hospitality, 
and  the  truth  of  that  saying  of  old :  "  It  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

The  wayfarers  were  finally  shown  to  a  neat 
little  chamber.  The  bed  was  soft  and  glistening 
white.  Too  white  and  clean  to  be  soiled  by  the 
occupancy  of  two  Confederate  soldiers  who  had 
not  had  a  change  of  underclothing  for  many 
weeks.  They  looked  at  it,  felt  of  it,  spread 
their  old  blankets  on  the  neat  carpet,  and  slept 
there  till  near  the  break  of  day. 

While  it  was  yet  dark  the  travelers,  unwilling 
to  lose  time  waiting  for  breakfast,  crept  out  of 
the  house,  leaving  their  thanks  for  their  kind 
hostess,  and  pressed  rapidly  on  to  Manikin 
Town,  on  the  James  River  and  Kanawha  Canal, 
half  a  day's  march  from  Richmond,  where  they 
arrived  while  it  was  yet  early  morning.  The 
green  sward  between  the  canal  and  river  was 
inviting,  and  the  survivors  laid  there  awhile  to 
rest  and  determine  whether  or  not  they  would 
push  on  to  the  city.  They  decided  to  do  so  as 
soon  as  they  could  find  a  breakfast  to  fit  them 
for  the  day's  march. 

A  short  walk  placed  them  at  the  yard  gate  of 
a  house  prominent  by  reason  of  its  size  and  fin 
ish.  Everything  indicated  comfort,  plenty,  and 
freedom  from  the  ravages  of  war.  The  propri 
etor,  a  well-fed,  hearty  man,  of  not  more  than 


BRAVE   SURVIVORS   HOMEWARD   BOUND.       173 

forty-two  or  three,  who,  as  a  soldier  could  tell 
at  a  glance,  had  never  seen  a  day's  service, 
stood  behind  the  tall  gate,  and,  without  a  mo 
tion  towards  opening  it,  replied  to  the  cheery 
"  Good  morning,  sir,"  of  the  soldiers  with  a 
sullen  "  morn  ;  what  do  you  want  here  ?  "  "  We 

are  from  Richmond,  sir,  members  of  the 

.     We  are  on  our  way  home  from  Appo- 

inattox,  where  the  army  was  surrendered,  and 
called  to  ask  if  you  could  spare  us  something  to 
eat  before  we  start  on  the  day's  march."  "  Oh, 
yes  !  I  know  about  the  surrender,  Jdo.  Some 
scoundrels  were  here  last  night  and  stole  my 

best  mare,     'em  !    No,  I  don't  want    any 

more  of  such  cattle  here,"  replied  the  patriot. 
(A  large  reward  for  his  name.)  The  foragers, 
having  worked  for  a  meal  before  and  being  less 
sensitive  than  "  penniless  gentlemen  "  sometimes 
are,  replied,  "  We  are  not  horse- thieves  or  beg 
gars.  If  you  do  not  feel  that  it  would  be  a 
pleasure  and  a  privilege  to  feed  us,  don't  do  it. 
We  don't  propose  to  press  the  matter." 

At  last  he  said,  "  Come  in,  then ;  I  '11  see 
what  I  can  do."  The  seekers  after  food  ac 
cepted  the  ungracious  invitation,  followed  the 
man  through  his  yard  and  into  his  house,  and 
took  seats  at  his  table.  At  a  signal  from  the 
master  a  servant  went  out.  The  host  fol 
lowed,  and,  it  is  supposed,  instructed  her.  The 


174  SOLDIER  LIFE. 

host  returned,  and  was  soon  followed  by  the 
servant  bearing  two  plates,  which  were  placed 
before  the  survivors.  Alas !  that  they  should 
"survive"  to  see  that  the  plates  contained  the 
heads,  tails,  fins,  and  vertebrse  of  the  fish,  fresh 
from  the  river,  which  the  family  of  this  hero 
and  sufferer  from  the  evils  of  war  had  devoured 
at  their  early,  arid,  no  doubt,  cozy  breakfast. 

Survivor  No.  1  looked  at  Survivor  No.  2, 
Survivor  No.  2  looked  at  Survivor  No.  1,  and 
simultaneously  they  rose  to  their  feet,  glanced 
at  the  "  host,"  and  strode  to  and  out  of  the 
door.  The  "  host"  followed,  amazed.  "  What 's 
the  matter,  gentlemen  ?  You  did  not  eat." 
The  "  poor  soldiers  "  replied  :  "  No,  we  did  n't 
eat ;  we  are  not  dogs.  Permit  us  to  say  we  are 
satisfied  it  would  be  an  injustice  to  the  canine 
race  to  call  you  one.  You  deserve  to  lose  an 
other  mare.  You  are  meaner  than  any  epi 
thets  at  our  command." 

The  man  fairly  trembled.  His  face  was  pale 
with  rage,  but  he  dared  not  reply  as  he  would. 
Recovering  himself,  and  seeing  an  "  odorous  " 
name  in  the  future,  he  attempted  apology  and 
reparation  for  the  insult,  and  complete  reconcil 
iation.  "  Oh,  come  in,  come  in  !  I  '11  have 
something  cooked  for  you.  Sorry  the  mistake 
occurred.  All  right,  all  right,  boys;  come  in," 
pulling  and  patting  the  u  boys."  But  the  boys 


BRAVE   SURVIVORS   HOMEWARD   BOUND.        175 

would  n't  "  go  in."  On  the  contrary,  they 
stayed  out  persistently,  and,  before  they  left 
that  gate,  heaped  on  its  owner  all  the  contempt, 
disdain,  and  scorn  which  they  could  express; 
flung  at  him  all  the  derisive  epithets  which  four 
years  in  the  army  places  at  a  man's  disposal ; 
pooh  poohed  at  his  hypocritical  regrets;  and 
shaking  off  the  dust  of  that  place  from  their 
feet,  pushed  on  to  the  city,  the  smoke  of  which 
rose  to  heaven. 

At  eleven  A.  M.  of  the  same  day,  two  foot 
sore,  despondent,  and  penniless  men  stood  facing 
the  ruins  of  the  home  of  a  comrade  who  had 
sent  a  message  to  his  mother.  "  Tell  mother 
I  am  coming."  The  ruins  yet  smoked.  A  rela 
tive  of  the  lady  whose  home  was  in  ashes,  and 
whose  son  said  "  I  am  coming,"  stood  by  the 
survivors.  "  Well,  then,"  he  said,  "  it  must  be 
true  that  General  Lee  has  surrendered."  The 
solemnity  of  the  remark,  coupled  with  the  cer 
tainty  in  the  minds  of  the  survivors,  was  almost 
amusing.  The  relative  pointed  out  the  tem 
porary  residence  of  the  mother,  and  thither  the 
survivors  wended  their  way. 

A  knock  at  the  door  startled  the  mother,  and, 
with  agony  in  her  eyes,  she  appeared  at  the 
open  door,  exclaiming,  "  My  poor  boys  !  "  — 
"  Are  safe,  and  coming  home,"  said  the  surviv 
ors.  "  Thank  God  !  "  said  the  mother,  and  the 
tears  flowed  down  her  cheeks. 


176  SOLDIER  LIFE. 

A  rapid  walk  through  ruined  and  smoking 
streets,  some  narrow  escapes  from  negro  soldiers 
on  police  duty,  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  two  of 
the  "  boys  in  blue  "  hung  up  by  their  thumbs 
for  pillaging,  a  few  handshakings,  and  the  sur 
vivors  found  their  way  to  the  house  of  a  relative 
where  they  did  eat  bread  with  thanks. 

A  friend  informed  the  survivors  that  farm 
hands  were  needed  all  around  the  city.  They 
made  a  note  of  the  name  of  one  farmer.  Sat 
urday  night  the  old  blankets  were  spread  on 
the  parlor  floor.  Sunday  morning,  the  16th  of 
April,  they  bid  farewell  to  the  household,  and 
started  for  the  farmer's  house. 

As  they  were  about  to  start  away,  the  head 
of  the  family  took  from  his  pocket  a  handful  of 
odd  silver  pieces,  and  extending  it  to  his  guests, 
told  them  it  was  all  he  had,  but  they  were  wel 
come  to  half  of  it!  Remembering  that  he  had 
a  wife  and  three  or  four  children  to  feed,  the 
soldiers  smiled  through  their  tears  at  his,  bade 
him  keep  it  all,  and  "  weep  for  himself  rather 
than  for  them."  So  saying,  they  departed,  and 
at  sundown  were  at  the  farmer's  house,  fourteen 
miles  away.  Monday  morning,  the  17th,  thej 
"  beat  their  swords "  (muskets,  in  this  case) 
into  plow-shares,  and  did  the  first  day's  work  of 
the  sixty  which  the  simple  farmer  secured  at  a 
cost  to  himself  of  about  half  rations  for  two 
men.  Behold  the  gratitude  of  a  people ! 


CHAPTER   X. 

SOLDIERS    TRANSFORMED. 

SUNDAY  night,  April  16th,  the  two  surviv 
ors  sat  down  to  a  cozy  supper  at  the  farmer's 
house.  Plentiful  it  was,  and,  to  hungry  travel 
ers,  sweet  and  satisfying.  The  presence  of  the 
farmer's  wife  and  children,  two  lady  refugees, 
and  an  old  gentleman,  who  was  also  a  refugee, 
added  greatly  to  the  novelty  and  pleasure  of 
the  meal. 

After  supper  the  soldiers  were  plied  with 
questions  till  they  were  almost  overcome  by 
fatigue  and  about  to  fall  asleep  in  their  chairs. 

At  last  the  farmer,  with  many  apologies,  led 
them  kindly  to  the  best  room  in  the  house,  the 
parlor,  where  they  spread  their  blankets  on  the 
carpeted  floor  and  were  soon  sound  asleep. 

In  the  morning  the  breakfast  was  enough  to 
craze  a  Confederate  soldier.  Buttermilk-bis 
cuit,  fresh  butter,  eggs,  milk,  fried  bacon,  cof 
fee !  After  the  breakfast,  business. 

The  farmer  proposed  to  feed  and  lodge  the 
soldiers,  and  pay  them  eleven  dollars  monthly, 
for  such  manual  labor  as  they  could  perform  on 


178  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

his  farm.  The  soldiers,  having  in  remem 
brance  the  supper  and  breakfast,  accepted  the 
terms.  The  new  "  hands  "  were  now  led  to  the 
garden,  where  the  farmer  had  half  an  acre 
plowed  up,  and  each  was  furnished  with  an  old, 
dull  hoe,  with  crooked,  knotty  handles.  The 
farmer  then,  with  blushes  and  stammering,  ex 
plained  that  he  desired  to  have  each  particular 
clod  chopped  up  fine  with  the  hoe.  The  sol 
diers  —  town  men  —  thought  this  an  -  almost 
superhuman  task  and  a  great  waste  of  time, 
but,  so  that  the  work  procured  food,  they  cared 
not  what  the  work  might  be,  and  at  it  they 
went  with  a  will.  All  that  morning,  until  the 
dinner  hour,  those  two  hoes  rose  and  fell  as 
regularly  as  the  pendulum  of  a  clock  swings 
from  side  to  side,  and  almost  as  fast. 

The  negro  men  and  women  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  now  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  newly- 
conferred  liberty,  and  consequently  having  no 
thought  of  doing  any  work,  congregated  about 
the  garden,  leaned  on  the  fence,  gazed  sleepily 
at  the  toiling  soldiers,  chuckled  now  and  then, 
and  occasionally  explained  their  presence  by 
remarking  to  each  other,  "  Come  here  to  see 
dem  dar  white  folks  wuckin." 

There  were  onions  growing  in  that  garden, 
which  the  soldiers  were  glad  to  pull  up  and  eat. 
It  was  angel's  food  to  men  who  had  fed  for 


SEE   DEM    WHITE    FOLKS    WUCKIN 


SOLDIERS   TRANSFORMED.  179 

months  on  salt  bacon  and  corn  bread  without 
one  mouthful  of  any  green  thing.  When  din 
ner  time  came  the  "  hands  "  were,  to  say  the 
least,  very  decidedly  hungry. 

Buttermilk-biscuit  figured  prominently  again, 
and  the  soldiers  found  great  difficulty  in  exer 
cising  any  deliberation  in  the  eating  of  them. 
It  really  seemed  to  them  that,  were  it  reason 
able  behavior,  they  could  devour  every  morsel 
provided  for  the  entire  family.  But  when  they 
had  devoured  about  two  thirds  of  all  there  was 
to  eat,  and  the  host  said,  "  Have  another  bis 
cuit  ?  "  they  replied,  "  No,  thank  you,  plenty  — 
greatest  plenty  !  "  all  the  while  as  hungry  as 
when  they  sat  down.  It  was  only  a  question  of 
who  was  to  be  hungry  —  the  soldiers  or  the  chil 
dren.  There  was  not  enough  for  all.  After 
dinner  the  survivors  went  again  to  the  gar 
den  and  chopped  those  clods  of  earth  until 
the  merry  voice  of  the  farmer  called  them  to 
supper. 

At  supper  there  was  a  profusion  of  flowers 
which,  the  kind  lady  of  the  house  explained, 
were  there  to  cheer  the  soldiers.  She  had  no 
ticed  they  were  sad,  and  hoped  that  this  little 
attention  would  cheer  them.  But  the  thing  the 
soldiers  most  needed  to  enliven  them  was  more 
to  eat.  They  were  not  feeling  romantic  at  all. 

After  the  supper  the  whole  family  adjourned 


180  SOLDIER  LIFE. 

to  the  parlor  and  were  entertained  with  some 
good  old-fashioned  piano  playing  and  homespun 
duets  and  solos.  The  veterans  added  their 
mite  to  the  entertainment  in  the  shape  of  a 
tolerably  fair  tenor  and  an  intolerable  bass. 
Singing  in  the  open  air,  with  a  male  chorus,  is 
not  the  best  preparation  for  a  parlor  mixed 
quartette. 

When  the  war  ceased  the  negroes  on  the 
farm  had  left  their  quarters  and  gone  out  in 
search  of  a  glorious  something  which  they  had 
heard  described  as  "  liberty,"  freedom,  "  man 
hood,"  and  the  like.  Consequently  the  "  quar 
ters  "  suggested  themselves  to  the  farmer  as  a 
good  place  for  the  new  field  hands  to  occupy 
for  sleeping  apartments.  They  were  carried  to 
an  out-building  and  shown  their  room,  ten  by 
fifteen  feet,  unplastered,  greasy,  and  dusty. 
The  odor  of  the  "  man  and  brother  "  did  cling 
there  still.  A  bench,  a  stool,  an  old  rickety 
bedstead,  and  a  bed  of  straw,  completed  the 
fitting  out  of  the  room.  Save  for  the  shelter  of 
the  roof,  anywhere  in  the  fields  would  have 
been  far  preferable.  The  first  night  disclosed 
the  presence  of  fleas  in  abundance,  and  other 
things  worse.  • 

While  it  was  yet  dark  the  farmer,  still  some 
what  embarrassed  by  the  possession  of  the  new 
style  of  laborer,  began  to  call,  "  Time  to  get  up 


SOLDIERS   TRANSFORMED.  181 

bo  —  gentlemen  !  "  "  Hallo  there  !  "  bang,  bang, 
bang  !  After  a  while  the  new  hands  appeared 
outside,  and  as  they  looked  around  noticed  that 
the  sun  was  looking  larger  and  redder  than  they 
remembered  it  and  too  low  down.  The  morn 
ing  air  was  chilling,  and  grass,  bushes,  every 
thing,  dripping  with  dew. 

The  farmer  led  the  way  to '  the  stable  yard, 
and  pointing  to  a  very  lively,  restless,  musculai 
young  bull  with  handsome  horns  and  glaring 
eyes,  said  he  was  to  be  yoked  and  hitched  to 
the  cart.  If  he  had  asked  them  to  bridle  and 
saddle  an  untamed  African  lion  they  would  not 
have  been  more  unwilling  or  less  competent. 
So  the  farmer,  telling  them  the  animal  was 
very  gentle  and  harmless,  proceeded  to  yoke  and 
hitch  him,  hoping,  he  said,  that  having  once 
seen  the  operation,  his  new  hands  would  know 
how.  The  yoke  was  a  sort  of  collar,  and  when 
the  hitching  was  done  the  bull  stood  in  the 
shafts  of  the  cart  just  as  a  horse  would.  In 
stead  of  a  bridle  and  reins  a  heavy  iron  chain 
with  links  an  inch  and  a  half  long  was  passed 
around  the  base  of  the  animal's  horns.  The 
driver  held  the  end  of  the  chain  and  managed 
the  animal  by  giving  it  tremendous  jerks,  which 
never  failed  to  thrill  the  bull  with  agony,  if  one 
might  judge  from  the  expression  of  his  counte 
nance  and  the  eagerness  with  which  he  rammed 


182  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

his  horns  into  pine-trees,  or  anything  near, 
whenever  he  felt  the  shock.  The  soldiers  con 
stantly  marveled  that  his  horns  did  not  drop 
off.  But  they  were  not  familiar  with  country 
life,  and  especially  ignorant  of  the  art  of  driving 
an  ox-cart. 

After  breakfast  the  younger  of  the  two  sur 
vivors  was  told  to  take  the  cart,  drawn  by  the 
animal  already  described,  and  go  down  into  the 
woods  after  a  load  of  cord-wood  for  the  kitchen 
fire.  The  trip  to  the  woods  was  comparatively 


easy.  The  wood  was  soon  loaded  on  the  cart, 
and  the  journey  home  commenced.  After  go 
ing  a  few  yards  the  animal  concluded  to  stop. 
His  driver,  finding  that  coaxing  would  not  in 
duce  him  to  start,  slacked  the  chain,  gave  it  a 
qujck,  strong  jerk,  and  started  him.  He  went 
off  at  a  fearful  rate,  with  his  nose  on  the  ground 
and  his  tail  Hying  like  a  banner  in  the  air.  In 


SOLDIERS   TRANSFORMED.  183 

a  moment  he  managed  to  hang  a  sapling  which 
halted  him,  but  summoning  all  his  strength 
for  a  great  effort,  he  bent  himself  to  the  yoke, 
the  sapling  slowly  bent  forward,  and  the  axle 
mounted  it.  In  another  moment  the  sapling 
had  righted  itself,  but  the  cart  was  turned 
over  completely,  and  the  wood  on  the  ground. 
There  were  a  great  many  mosquitoes,  gnats, 
and  flies  in  those  woods,  and  they  were  biting 
furiously.  Possibly  that  may  account  for  the 
exasperated  condition  of  the  driver  and  his  use 
of  strong  expressions  there. 

The  cart  was  righted,  the  wood  piled  on 
again,  and,  strange  to  say,  got  out  of  the  woods 
without  further  mishap.  But  in  order  to  reach 
the  house  it  was  necessary  to  drive  up  the  slope 
of  a  hill-side,  with  here  and  there  a  stump.  On 
the  way  up  the  driver  saw  a  stump  ahead  and 
determined  to  avoid  it.  So  he  gave  the  chain  a 
shake.  But  the  animal  preferred  to  "  straddle  " 
the  stump,  and  would  have  succeeded  but  for 
the  fact  that  it  was  too  high  to  pass  beneath 
the  axle.  As  soon  as  he  felt  the  resistance  of 
the  stump  against  the  axle,  he  made  splendid 
exertions  to  overcome  it,  and  succeeded  in 
walking  off  with  the  body  of  the  cart,  leaving 
the  axle  and  wheels  behind.  He  did  n't  go 
far,  however.  The  farmer  came  down  and  re 
leased  the  weary  animal.  The  survivor  then 
14 


184  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

" toted"  the  wood,  stick  by  stick,  to  the  house, 
and  learned  thereby  the  value  of  cord-wood 
ready  to  hand.  People  who  are  raised  in  the 
country  have  simple  ways,  but  they  can  do 
some  things  much  better  than  town-people  can. 
They  are  useful  people.  They  are  not  afraid 
of  cattle  or  horses.  The  next  day  this  awful 
animal  was  yoked  to  a  plow  and  placed  under 
the  care  of  the  elder  of  the  survivors,  who  was 
to  plow  a  field  near  the  house.  In  a  few  min 
utes  he  did  something  displeasing  to  the  bull, 
which  started  him  to  running  at  a  fearful  speed. 
He  dashed  away  towards  the  house,  the  plow 
flying  and  flapping  about  like  the  arms  of  a 
flail';  tore  through  the  flower-beds,  ripping  them 
to  pieces ;  tore  down  all  the  choice  young  trees 
about  the  house  ;  frightened  the  ladies  and  chil 
dren  nearly  to  death,  and  demoralized  the  whole 
farm.  He  was  at  last  captured  and  affection 
ately  cared  for  by  the  farmer,  who,  no  doubt, 
felt  that  it  was  a  pity  for  any  man  to  be  com 
pelled  to  trust  his  valuable  stock  to  the  man 
agement  of  green  hands. 

In  the  mean  time  the  "  other  man  "  had 
been  furnished  with  a  harrow  and  a  mule  and 
sent  to  harrow  a  field.  The  farmer  pointed, 
carelessly  no  doubt,  to  a  field  and  said,  "  Now 
you  go  there  and  drag  that  field.  You  know 
how,  don't  you  ?  Well ! "  So  he  went  and 


SOLDIERS    TRANSFORMED.  185 

dragged  that  old  harrow  up  and  down,  up  and 
down,  for  many  a  weary  hour.  Towards  din 
ner  time  he  heard  a  voice  in  the  distance,  as  of 
some  one  in  distress.  "  Heigh  !  Ho-o-o-o  ! 
Say  there  !  Stop  !  Sto-o-o-o-op  !  Hold  on  !  " 

There  came  the  farmer  running,  panting, 
gesticulating,  and  screaming.  Standing  in  as 
tonishment  the  agricultural  survivor  awaited 
his  arrival  and  an  explanation  of  his  strange 
conduct.  As  soon  as  the  farmer  had  breath  to 
speak  he  said,  "  Ah,  me !  Oh  my !  Mister, 
my  dear  sir !  You  have  gone  sir,  and  sir,  you 
have  tore  up  all  my  turnip  salad!"  And  he 
wept  there  sorely.  You  see  the  farmer  pointed 
out  the  field  carelessly,  and  the  "  hand  "  got  on 
the  wrong  one.  He  noticed  some  vegetation 
shooting  up  here  and  there,  but  supposed  it  was 
some  weed  the  farmer  wished  to  eradicate. 
Town-people  don't  know  everything,  and  sol 
diers  are  so  careless. 

The  three  refugees  before  mentioned  were  an 
old  gentleman,  his  aged  wife,  and  their  widowed 
daughter.  Having  lost  their  home  and  all  their 
worldly  possessions,  they  had  agreed  to  work  for 
the  farmer  for  food  and  lodging.  The  old  gen 
tleman  was  acting  somewhat  in  the  character  of 
coachman ;  his  wife  was  nurse ;  and  the  wid 
owed  daughter  was  cook  and  house-servant. 
The  three  were  fully  the  equals  if  not  the  supe- 


186  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

riors  of  the  family  in  which  they  were  serving. 
Happily  for  them  they  soon  got  some  good 
news,  and  drove  away  in  their  own  carriage. 
The  farmer  did  the  best  he  could  for  them 
while  they  stayed,  and  for  his  survivors ;  but 
he  was  burdened  with  a  large  family,  a  mis 
erably  poor  farm,  deep  poverty,  and  hopeless 
shiftlessness. 

One  day  the  farmer  made  up  his  mind  to  cul 
tivate  a  certain  field,  in  the  centre  of  which  he 
had  an  extensive  cow -pen,  inclosed  by  a  ten- 
rail  fence.  To  prepare  the  way  he  wanted  that 
fence  taken  down,  carried  rail  by  rail  to  the 
corner  of  the  field,  and  there  piled  up.  He  put 
one  of  his  new  hands  to  work  at  this  interest 
ing  job,  and  went  home,  probably  to  take  a  nap. 
The  survivor  toted  rails  that  day  on  one  shoul 
der  until  it  was  bleeding,  and  then  on  the  other 
until  that  was  too  sensitive.  Then  he  walked 
over  to  see  how  the  other  "  hand  "  was  getting 
along  with  the  horse  and  mule  team  and  the 
harrow. 

He  found  him  very  warm,  very  much  exas 
perated,  using  excited  language,  beating  the 
animals,  and  declaring  that  no  man  under  the 
sun  ever  encountered  such  formidable  difficul 
ties  in  the  pursuit  of  agricultural  profit.  He 
explained  that  the  horse  was  too  large  and  the 
mule  too  small ;  the  traces  were  too  old,  and 


SOLDIERS    TRANSFORMED.  187 

would  break  every  few  yards  ;  the  harness  was 
dropping  to  pieces  ;  the  teeth  constantly  drop 
ping  out  of  the  harrow;  and  the  harrow  itself 
ready  to  tumble  into  firewood.  In  addition  to 
these,  annoyances,  the  mule  and  the  horse  al 
ternated  between  going  the  wrong  way  and  not 
going  at  all.  The  man  almost  wept  as  he  de 
scribed  the  aggravating  calmness  of  the  animals. 
When  a  trace  broke  they  turned,  gazed  on  the 
wreck,  stood  still,  groaned  (by  way  of  a  sigh), 
and  seemed  to  say,  "  One  more  brief  respite, 
thank  Providence !  Fifteen  minutes  to  tie  up 
that  old  chain,  at  least!"  After  a  careful  sur 
vey  of  the  situation  and  some  tolerably  accurate 
guesses  as  to  the  proximity  of  the  dinner  hour, 
the  two  battered  remnants  of  the  glorious  old 
army  decided  to  suspend  operations,  and  slowly 
wended  their  way  to  the  house  :  one  carrying 
his  lacerated  shoulders,  and  the  other  steering 
the  remains  of  the  harrow. 

It  had  been  agreed  —  indeed,  the  "  remnants  " 
had  insisted  —  that  they  were  to  be  directed 
about  their  work  and  made  to  serve  exactly  as 
the  negro  hands  would  have  been  had  they  re 
mained.  But,  so  novel  was  the  situation,  the 
farmer  had  constantly  to  be  reminded  of  his 
authority.  At  last  a  bright  idea  occurred  to 
the  farmer.  He  would  undertake  a  little  extra- 
fine  work  for  a  neighbor,  and  thus  relieve  the 


188  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

survivors  of  the  monotony  of  the  hoe,  the  plow, 
and  the  harrow.  Some  old  ladies  wanted  their 
household  goods  moved  from  one  house  to  an 
other,  and  we  were  to  undertake  the  job. 

The  entire  force  consisted  of  the  mule  and 
the  cart  thereto  belonging,  and  the  bull  and  his 
cart.  The  mule  had  precedence  in  the  line, 
and  was  closely  followed  by  the  bull.  The 
farmer  walked  in  front  as  pioneer,  the  elder 
survivor  drove  the  mule,  and  the  hero  of  the 
cow-pen  held  the  chain  which  agonized  the  bull 
when  necessary. 

At  the  brow  of  a  certain  long  hill,  which  the 
humble  mule  had  quietly  walked  down,  the  bull 
halted  for  meditation.  His  impatient  and  less 
romantic  driver  thoughtlessly  gave  the  chain  a 
rude  jerk.  In  an  instant  he  felt  himself  whirled 
down  that  hill  at  breakneck  speed.  Almost 
simultaneous  with  the  start  was  the  shock  of 
the  stop.  Picking  himself  up,  the  driver  found 
his  cart  securely  fastened  to  a  pine-tree,  which 
was  jammed  between  the  wheel  and  the  body 
of  it.  The  steed  was  unhurt,  but  excited.  After 
a  long  coaxing  the  farmer  persuaded  him  to 
back  far  enough  to  disengage  the  cart,  and  the 
progress  continued. 

The  furniture  was  found  in  a  small  room,  up 
a  crooked  and  narrow  stairs.  Nothing  was  as 
large  as  the  furniture.  How  to  get  it  out  was 


SOLDIERS   TRANSFORMED.  189 

a  conundrum.  One  of  the  survivors  suggested 
to  the  farmer  to  knock  off  the  roof  of  the  house, 
and  take  it  out  that  way.  But  he  wouldn't 
hear  of  it.  Finally,  the  cart  was  driven  under 
the  eaves,  and  while  "  those  whose  past  services 
had  endeared  them  to  their  countrymen  "  rolled 
the  furniture  out  of  the  window  and  lowered  it 
"by  hand"  from  the  eaves,  the  farmer  stowed 
it  in  the  cart.  The  ladies,  though  greatly  agi 
tated  by  the  imminent  danger  of  the  furniture, 
found  time  to  admire  the  ingenuity  and  origi 
nality  of  the  plan  and  the  intrepid  daring  of  its 
execution.  The  farmer,  who  had  several  times 
been  in  danger  of  having  himself  mashed  flat, 
was  entirely  overlooked.  Both  the  carts  being 
loaded,  the  train  moved  off  in  good  order. 

After  a  few  days  the  farmer  mounted  one  of 
the  men,  "  not  conquered,  but  wearied  with  vic 
tory,"  on  the  mule,  gave  him  an  old  meal-bag, 
and  sent  him  to  a  neighbor's  for  meal  and  ba 
con.  He  got,  say,  a  peck  of  one  and  a  pound 
or  two  of  the  other.  This  proceeding  was  re 
peated  at  intervals  of  a  day  or  two,  and  finally 
led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  farmer  was  living 
from  hand  to  mouth  certainly,  and  in  all  prob 
ability  on  charity.  Besides,  the  "  new  hands  " 
felt  a  growing  indisposition,  owing  to  the  mea 
gre  supplies  on  the  table,  to  allow  themselves 
any  latitude  in  the  matter  of  eating.  So  they 


190  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

resolved  to  try  the  good  old  plan  of  days  gone 
by,  and  send  out  a  foraging  party.  The  plans 
were  discussed  at  length,  and  everything  de 
cided. 

One  morning,  early,  the  senior  of  the  "en 
deared  "  survivors  took  the  road  for  Richmond, 
distant  about  fourteen  miles,  intending  there  to 
lay  in  food,  tobacco,  pipes,  information,  and  any 
other  little  thing  calculated  to  brighten  life  on 
a  farm.  During  his  absence  the  other  forlorn 
survivor  groaned  with  impatience  and  doubt, 
questioning  the  possibility  of  a  man  returning 
to  such  a  place  after  seeing  the  luxurious  sup 
plies  of  good  eating  on  exhibition  by  the  Yan 
kee  sutlers  in  Richmond. 

But  he  did  return,  like  a  good  comrade, 
bringing  his  "  plunder  "  with  him.  He  made 
the  round  trip  of  twenty-eight  miles  on  foot, 
and  at  midnight  reached  the  tfc  quarters  "  with 
cold  ham,  good  bread,  pipes,  smoking  tobacco, 
chewing  tobacco,  a  few  clean  clothes,  and  a 
good  pair  of  shoes,  which  one  of  the  party 
needed.  These  were  the  gift  of  an  old  friend 
in  town.  Sitting  on  ^the  bedside,  as  morning 
approached,  they  made  a  hearty  meal,  and  then 
smoked,  smoked,  smoked,  as  only  men  can 
smoke  who  love  to  smoke  and  have  not  had 
the  wherewithal  for  a  week  or  two. 

The  returned   forager   told   of    the   strange 


SOLDIERS    TRANSFORMED.  191 

sights  he  had  seen  in  town.  Some  young  Con 
federates,  who  were  smart,  were  at  work  in  the 
ruins  cleaning  bricks  at  five  dollars  a  day.  Oth 
ers  had  government  work,  as  clerks,  mechanics, 
and  laborers,  earning  from  one  to  five  dollars 
a  day.  The  government  had  established  com 
missary  stores  at  different  points  in  the  city, 
where  rations  were  sold,  at  nominal  prices,  to 
those  who  could  buy,  and  supplied  gratis  to 
those  who  could  not.  He  had  seen  gray-haired 
old  gentlemen,  all  their  lives  used  to  plenty, 
standing  about  these  places,  waiting  "  their 
turn"  to  "draw."  Soldiers  marched  by  twos 
and  fours  and  by  companies,  everywhere.  Cap 
tains  and  lieutenants,  sergeants  and  corporals, 
were  the  masters  of  the  city  and  a  sort  of  tem 
porary  Providence,  dictating  what  sort  of 
clothes  the  people  were  to  wear,  what  they 
might  eat,  what  they  might  do,  what  they 
might  say  and  think  ;  in  short,  allowing  the  peo 
ple  to  live,  as  it  were,  on  a  "limited  "  ticket. 

But  among  other  things  the  forager  brought 
information  to  the  effect  that  he  had  secured 
employment  for  both  at  the  cheering  rate  of 
five  dollars  per  week. 

So  one  day  these  two  "  laid  down  the  shovel 
and  the  hoe,"  and  made  most  excellent  time  for 
Richmond,  arriving  there  early  in  the  day,  and 
entering  at  once  upon  the  new  work. 


192 


SOLDIER    LIFE. 


During  the  stay  at  the  farm  the  survivors 
felt  that  they  were  not  yet  returned  to  civil  life, 
but  '•  foraging  "  on  the  neutral  ground  between 
war  and  peace,  —  neither  soldiers  nor  citizens. 
But  now,  in  regular  employment,  in  a  city,  — 


their  own  city! — with  so  much  per  week 
and  the  responsibility  of  "  finding  themselves," 
and  especially  after  the  provost  made  them  cut 
the  brass  buttons  off  their  jackets,  and  more 
especially  after  they  were  informed  that  they 
must  take  the  oath  before  doing  anything  else, 


SOLDIERS   TRANSFORMED.  193 

they  began  to  think  that  probably  the  war  was 
nearing  its  end.  But  a  real  good  hearty  war 
like  that  dies  hard.  No  country  likes  to  part 
with  a  good  earnest  war.  It  likes  to  talk  about 
the  war,  write  its  history,  fight  its  battles  over 
and  over  again,  and  build  monument  after 
monument  to  commemorate  its  glories. 

A  long  time  after  a  war,  people  begin  to  find 
out,  as  they  read,  that  the  deadly  struggle 
marked  a  grand  period  in  their  history  ! 

13 


CHAPTER   XL 

CAMP-FIRES   OF   THE  BOYS   IN   GKAY. 

THE  soldier  may  forget  the  long,  weary 
march,  with  its  dust,  heat,  and  thirst,  and  he 
may  forget  the  horrors  and  blood  of  the  battle 
field,  or  he  may  recall  them  sadly,  as  he  thinks 
of  the  loved  dead ;  but  the  cheerful,  happy 
scenes  of  the  camp-fire 'he  will  never  forget. 
How  willingly  he  closes  his  eyes  to  the  present 
to  dream  of  those  happy,  careless  days  and 
nights !  Around  the  fire  crystallize  the  mem 
ories  of  the  soldier's  life.  It  was  his  home, 
his  place  of  rest,  where  he  met  with  good  com 
panionship.  Who  kindled  the  fire  ?  Nobody 
had  matches,  there  was  no  fire  in  sight,  and  yet 
scarcely  was  the  camp  determined  when  the 
bright  blaze  of  the  camp-fire  was  seen.  He  was 
a  shadowy  fellow  who  kindled  the  fire.  Nobody 
knows  who  he  was ;  but  no  matter  how  wet  the 
leaves,  how  sobby  the  twigs,  no  matter  if  there 
was  no  fire  in  a  mile  of  the  camp,  that  fellow 
could  start  one.  Some  men  might  get  down  on 
hands  and  knees,  and  blow  it  and  fan  it,  rear 
and  charge,  and  fume  and  fret,  and  yet  "she 


CAMP-FIRES  OF   THE   BOYS   IN   GRAY.         195 

wouldn't  burn."  But  this  fellow  would  come, 
kick  it  all  around,  scatter  it,  rake  it"  together 
again,  shake  it  up  a  little,  and  oh,  how  it 
burned!  The  little  flames  would  bite  the 
twigs  and  snap  at  the  branches,  embrace  the 
logs,  and  leap  and  dance  and  laugh,  at  the  touch 
of  the  master's  hand,  and  soon  lay  at  his  feet  a 
bed  of  glowing  coals. 

As  soon  as  the  fire  is  kindled  all  hands  want 
water.  Who  can  find  it  ?  Where  is  it  ?  Never 
mind ;  we  have  a  man  who  knows  where  to  go. 
He  says,  "  Where  's  our  bucket?  "  and  then  we 
hear  the  rattle  of  the  old  tin  cup  as  it  drops  to 
the  bottom  of  it,  and  away  he  goes,  nobody 
knows  where.  But  he  knows,  and  he  does  n't 
stop  to  think,  but  without  the  slightest  hesita 
tion  or  doubt  strikes  out  in  the  darkness.  From 
the  camp-fire  as  a  centre,  draw  500  radii,  and 
start  an  ordinary  man  on  any  of  them,  and  let 
him  walk  a  mile  on  each,  and  he  will  miss  the 
water.  But  that  fellow  in  the  mess  with  the 
water  instinct  never  failed.  He  would  go  as 
straight  for  the  spring,  or  well,  or  creek,  or 
river,  as  though  he  had  lived  in  that  immediate 
neighborhood  all  his  life  and  never  got  water 
anywhere  else.  What  a  valuable  man  he  was  I 
A  modest  fellow,  who  never  knew  his  own 
greatness.  But  others  remember  and  honor 
him.  May  he  never  want  for  any  good  thing ! 


196  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

Having  a  roaring  fire  and  a  bucket  of  good 
water,  we  settle  down.  A  man  cannot  be  com 
fortable  "anywhere;"  so  each  man  and  his 
"  chum  "  picks  out  a  tree,  and  that  particular 
tree  becomes  the  homestead  of  the  two.  They 
hang  their  canteens  on  it,  lay  their  haversacks 
and  spread  their  blankets  at  the  foot  of  it,  and 
sit  down  and  lean  their  weary  backs  against  it, 
and  feel  that  they  are  at  home.  How  gloomy 
the  woods  are  beyond  the  glow  of  our  fire  ! 
How  cozy  and  comfortable  we  are  who  stand 
around  it  and  inhale  the  aroma  of  the  coffee- 
boiler  and  skillet ! 

The  man  squatting  by  the  fire  is  a  person 
of  importance.  He  does  n't  talk,  not  he  ;  his 
whole  mind  is  concentrated  on  that  skillet.  He 
is  our  cook,  —  volunteer,  natural  and  talented 
cook.  Not  in  a  vulgar  sense.  He  does  n't  mix, 
but  simply  bakes,  the  biscuit.  Every  faculty, 
all  the  energy,  of  the  man  is  employed  in  that 
great  work.  Don't  suggest  anything  to  him 
if  you  value  his  friendship.  Don't  attempt  to 
put  on  or  take  off  from  the  top  of  that  skillet 
one  single  coal,  and  don't  be  in  a  hurry  for  the 
biscuit.  You  need  not  say  you  "  like  yours 
half  done,"  etc.  Simply  wait/  When  he 
thinks  they  are  ready,  and  not  before,  you  get 
them.  He  may  raise  the  lid  cautiously  now 
and  then  and  look  in,  but  don't  you  look  in. 


CAMP-FIRES    OF    THE    BOYS    IN    GRAY.         197 

Don't  say  you  think  they  are  done,  because  it 's 
useless.  Ah !  his  face  relaxes ;  he  raises  the 
lid,  turns  it  upside  down  to  throw  off  the  coals, 
and  says,  All  right,  boys!  And  now,  with  the 
air  of  a  wealthy  philanthropist,  he  distributes 
the  solid  and  weighty  product  of  his  skill  to,  as 
it  were,  the  humble  dependents  around  him. 

The  "  General"  of  the  mess,  having  satisfied 
the  cravings  of  the  inner  man,  now  proceeds  to 
enlighten  the  ordinary  members  of  it  as  to 
when,  how,  and  why,  and  where,  the  campaign 
will  open,  and  what  will  be  the  result.  He  ar 
ranges  for  every  possible  and  impossible  contin 
gency,  and  brings  the  war  to  a  favorable  and 
early  termination.  The  greatest  mistake  Gen 
eral  Lee  ever  made  was  that  he  failed  to  consult 
this  man.  Who  can  tell  what  "  might  have 
been  "  if  he  had  ? 

Now,  to  the  consternation  of  all  hands,  our 
old  friend  "  the  Bore,"  familiarly  known  as 
"  the  old  Auger,"  opens  his  mouth  to  tell  us 
of  a  little  incident  illustrative  of  his  personal 
prowess,  and,  by  way  of  preface,  commences  at 
Eden,  and  goes  laboriously  through  the  patri 
archal  age,  on  through  the  Mosaic  dispensation, 
to  the  Christian  era,  takes  in  Grecian  and  Ro 
man  history  by  the  way,  then  Spain  and  Ger 
many  and  England  and  colonial  times,  and  the 
early  history  of  our  grand  republic,  the  causes 


198  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

of  and  necessity  for  our  war,  and  a  complete 
history  up  to  date,  and  then  slowly  unfolds 
the  little  matter.  We  always  loved  to  hear 
this  man,  and  prided  ourselves  on  being  the 
only  mess  in  the  army  having  such  treasure 
all  our  own. 

The  "  Auger,"  having  been  detailed  for 
guard-duty,  walks  off  ;  his  voice  grows  fainter 
and  fainter  in  the  distance,  and  we  call  forth 
our  poet.  One  eye  is  bandaged  with  a  dirty 
cotton  rag.  He  is  bare-headed,  and  his  hair 
resembles  a  dismantled  straw  stack.  His  el 
bows  and  knees  are  out,  and  his  pants,  from  the 
knee  down,  have  a  brown-toasted  tinge  imparted 
by  the  genial  heat  of  many  a  fire.  His  toes 
protrude  themselves  prominently  from  his  shoes. 
You  would  say,  "  What  a  dirty,  ignorant  fel 
low."  But  listen  to  his  rich,  well-modulated 
voice.  How  perfect  his  memory  !  What  grace 
ful  gestures  !  How  his  single  eye  glows !  See 
the  color  on  his  cheek  !  See  the  strained  and 
still  attention  of  the  little  group  around  him  as 
he  steps  into  the  light  of  the  fire!  Hear  him  ! 

"  I  am  dying,  Egypt,  dying  ! 

Ebbs  the  crimson  life  tide  fast. 
And  the  dark  Plutonian  shadows 

Gather  on  the  evening  blast. 
Let  thine  arms,  O  Queen,  support  me, 

Hush  thy  sobs  and  bow  thine  ear  ; 
Listen  to  the  great  heart  secrets  — 

Thou,  and  thou  alone,  must  hear. 


THE    POET   OF  OUR    MESS 


CAMP-FIRES   OF   THE   BOYS   IN  GRAY.         199 

"  I  am  dying,  Egypt,  dying  ! 

Hark !  the  insulting  foeman's  cry. 
They  are  coming !  quick !  my  falchion  ! ! 

Let  me  front  them  ere  I  die. 
Ah  !  no  more  amid  the  battle 

Shall  my  heart  exulting  swell  — 
Isis  and  Osiris  guard  thee  — 

Cleopatra  !  Rome  !  Farewell !  " 

"Good!"  "Bully!"  "Go  ahead,  Jack!" 
u  Give  us  some  more,  old  fellow  !  "  And  he 
generally  did,  much  to  everybody's  satisfaction. 
We  all  loved  Jack,  the  Poet  of  our  mess.  He 
sleeps,  his  battles  o'er,  in  Hollywood. 

The  Singing  man  generally  put  in  towards 
the  last,  and  sung  us  to  bed.  He  was  generally 
a  diminutive  man,  with  a  sweet  voice  and  a 
sweetheart  at  home.  His  songs  had  in  them 
rosy  lips,  blue  eyes,  golden  hair,  pearly  teeth, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Of  course  he  would 
sing  some  good  rollicking  songs,  in  order  to  give 
all  a  chance.  And  so,  with  hearty  chorus, 
"  Three  times  around  went  she,"  "  Virginia, 
Virginia,  the  Land  of  the  Free,"  "  No  surren 
der,"  "  Lula,Lula,  Lula  is  gone,"  "  John  Brown's 
Body,"  with  many  variations,  "Dixie,"  "The 
Bonny  Blue  Flag,"  "  Farewell  to  the  Star-Span 
gled  Banner,"  "  Hail  Columbia,"  with  immense 
variations,  and  "  Maryland,  My  Maryland,"  till 
about  the  third  year  of  the  war,  when  we  be- 


200  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

gan  to  think  Maryland  had  "  breathed  and 
burned  "  long  enough,  and  ought  to  "  come." 
What  part  of  her  did  come  was  first-class. 
How  the  woods  did  ring  with  song !  There 
were  patriotic  songs,  romantic  and  love  songs, 
sarcastic,  comic,  and  war  songs,  pirates'  glees, 
plantation  melodies,  lullabies,  good  old  hymn 
tunes,  anthems,  Sunday-school  songs,  and  every 
thing  but  vulgar  and  obscene  songs  ;  these  were 
scarcely  ever  heard,  and  were  nowhere  in  the 
army  well  received  or  encouraged. 

The  recruit  —  our  latest  acquisition  —  was 
so  interesting.  His  nice  clean  clothes,  new  hat, 
new  shoes,  trimming  on  his  shirt  front,  letters 
and  cross-guns  on  his  hat,  new  knife  for  all  the 
fellows  to  borrow,  nice  comb  for  general  use, 
nice  little  glass  to  shave  by,  good  smoking  to 
bacco,  money  in  his  pocket  to  lend  out,  oh, 
what  a  great  convenience  he  was  !  How  many 
things  he  had  that  a  fellow  could  borrow,  and 
how  willing  he  was  to  go  on  guard,  and  get  wet, 
and  give  away  his  rations,  and  Uring  water,  and 
cut  wood,  and  ride  horses  to  water  !  And  he  was 
so  clean  and  sweet,  and  his  cheeks  so  rosy,  all 
the  fellows  wanted  to  bunk  with  him  under  his 
nice  new  blanket,  and  impart  to  him  some  of 
their  numerous  and  energetic  ''tormentors." 

And  then  it  was  so  interesting  to  hear  him 
talk.  He  knew  so  much  about  war,  arms,  tents, 


CAMP-FIRES   OF    THE   BOYS    IN    GRAY.         201 

knapsacks,  ammunition,  marching,  fighting, 
camping,  cooking,  shooting,  and  everything  a 
soldier  is  and  does.  It  is  remarkable  how  much 
a  recruit  and  how  little  an  old  soldier  knows 
about  such  things.  After  a  while  the  recruit 
forgets  all,  and  is  as  ignorant  as  any  veteran. 
How  good  the  fellows  were  to  a  really  gentle 
manly  boy  !  How  they  loved  him  ! 

The  Scribe  was  a  wonderful  fellow  and  very 
useful.  He  could  write  a  two-hours'  pass,  sign 
the  captain's  name  better  than  the  captain  him 
self,  and  endorse  it  "  respectfully  forwarded  ap 
proved,"  sign  the  colonel's  name  after  "  respect 
fully  forwarded  approved,"  and  then  on  up  to 
the  commanding  officer.  And  do  it  so  well  ! 
Nobody  wanted  anything  better.  The  boys 
had  great  veneration  for  the  scribe,  and  used 
him  constantly. 

The  Mischievous  man  was  very  useful.  He 
made  fun.  He  knew  how  to  volunteer  to  shave 
a  fellow  with  a  big  beard  and  moustache.  He 
wouldn't  lend  his  razor,  but  he'd  shave  him 
very  well.  He  shaves  one  cheek,  one  half  the 
chin,  one  side  of  the  upper  lip,  puts  his  razor  in 
his  pocket,  walks  off,  and  leaves  his  customer 
the  most  one-sided  chap  in  the  army.  He  knew 
how  to  do  something  like  this  every  day.  What 
a  treasure  to  a  mess  ! 

The  Forager  was  a  good  fellow.     He  always 


202 


SOLDIER    LIFE. 


divided  with  the  mess.  If  there  was  butter 
milk  anywhere  inside  of  ten  miles  he  found  it. 
Apples  he  could  smell  from  afar  off.  If  any 
body  was  killing  pork  in  the  county  he  got  the 
spare-ribs.  If  a  man  had  a  cider  cart  on  the 


V 


road  he  saw  him  first  and  bought  him  out.  No 
hound  had  a  keener  scent,  no  eagle  a  sharper 
eye.  How  indefatigable  he  was  !  Distance, 
rivers,  mountains,  pickets,  patrols,  roll-calls,  — 
nothing  could  stop  or  hinder  him.  He  never 
bragged  about  his  exploits ;  simply  brought  in 
the  spoils,  laid  them  down,  and  said,  "  Pitch  in." 


CAMP-FIRES   OF   THE   BOYS   IN   GRAY.         203 

Not  a  word  of  the  weary  miles  he  had  traveled, 
how  he  begged  or  how  much  he  paid,  —  simply 
"•  Pitch  in." 

The  Commissary  man  —  he  happened  to  be 
in  our  mess  —  never  had  any  sugar  over,  any 
salt,  any  soda,  any  coffee  —  oh,  no  !  But  beg 
him,  plead  with  him,  bear  with  him  when  he 
says,  "  Go  way,  boy !  Am  I  the  commissary- 
general  ?  Have  I  got  all  the  sugar  in  the  Con 
federacy  ?  Don't  you  know  rations  are  short 
now  ?  "  Then  see  him  relax.  "  Come  here, 
my  son  ;  untie  that  bag  there,  and  look  in  that 
old  jacket,  and  you  will  find  another  bag,  —  a 
little  bag,  —  and  look  in  there  and  you  will  find 
some  sugar.  Now  go  round  and  tell  everybody 
in  camp,  won't  you.  Tell  'em  all  to  come  and 
get  some  sugar.  Oh  !  I  know  you  won't.  Oh 
yes,  of  course  !  " 

As  a  general  ride  every  mess  had  a  "  Bully  " 
and  an  "Argument  man."  Time  would  fail  me 
to  tell  of  the  "lazy  man,"  the  "  brave  man," 
the  "worthless  man,"  the  "ingenious  man," 
the  "helpless  man, ".the  "  sensitive  man,"  and 
the  "gentleman,"  but  they  are  as  familiar  to 
the  members  of  the  mess  as  the  "  honest  man," 
who  would  not  eat  stolen  pig,  but  would  "  take 
a  little  of  the  gravy." 

Every  soldier  remembers  —  indeed,  was  per 
sonally  acquainted  with  —  the  Universal  man. 


204  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

How  he  denied  vehemently  his  own  identity,  and 
talked  about  u  poison  oak,"  and  heat,  and  itch, 
and  all  those  things,  and  strove,  in  the  presence 
of  those  who  knew  how  it  was  themselves,  to 
prove  his  absolute  freedom  from  anything  like 
"  universality  !  "  Poor  fellow  !  sulphur  inter 
nally  and  externally  would  not  do.  Alas!  his 
only  hope  was  to  acknowledge  his  unhappy 
state,  and  stand,  in  the  presence  of  his  peers, 
confessed  —  a  lousy  man  ! 

The  "  Boys  in  Blue  "  generally  preferred  to 
camp  in  the  open  fields.  The  Confeds  took  to 
the  woods,  and  so  the  Confederate  camp  was 
not  as  orderly  or  as  systematically  arranged, 
but  the  more  picturesque  of  the  two.  The 
blazing  fire  lit  up  the  forms  and  faces  and  trees 
around  it  with  a  ruddy  glow,  but  only  deepened 
the  gloom  of  the  surrounding  woods  ;  so  that 
the  soldier  pitied  the  poor  fellows  away  oft'  on 
guard  in  the  darkness,  and,  hugging  himself, 
felt  how.  good  it  was  to  be  with  the  fellows 
around  the  fire.  How  companionable  was  the 
blaze  and  the  glow  of  the.  coals !  They  warmed 
the  heart  as  well  as  the  foot.  The  imagination 
seemed  to  feed  on  the  glowing  coals  and  sur 
rounding  gloom,  and  when  the  soldier  gazed  on 
the  fire  peace,  liberty,  home,  strolls  in  the 
woods  and  streets  with  friends,  the  church,  the 
school,  playmates,  and  sweethearts  all  passed 


CAMP-FIRES   OF    THE   BOYS  IN   GRAY.         205 

before  him,  and  even  the  dead  came  to  mind. 
Sadly,  yet  pleasantly,  he  thought  of  the  loved 
and  lost ;  the  future  loomed  up,  and  the  pos 
sibility  of  death  and  prison  and  the  grief  at 
home  would  stir  his  heart,  and  the  tears  would 
fall  trickling  to  the  ground.  Then  was  the  time 
to  fondle  the  little  gifts  from  home ;  simple 
things,  — the  little  pin-cushion,  the  needle  case, 
with  thread  and  buttons,  the  embroidered  to 
bacco  bag,  and  the  knitted  gloves.  Then  the 
time  to  gaze  on  photographs,  and  to  read  and 
re-read  the  letter  telling  of  the  struggles  at 
home,  and  the  coming  box  of  good  things,  — 
butter  and  bread,  toasted  and  ground  coffee, 
sugar  cakes  and  pies,  and  other  comfortable 
things,  prepared,  by  self-denial,  for  the  soldier, 
brother,  and  son.  Then  the  time  to  call  on  God 
to  spare,  protect,  and  bless  the  dear,  defenseless, 
helpless  ones  at  home.  Then  the  time  for  high 
resolves;  to  read  to  himself  his  duty  ;  to  "re- 
enlist  for  the  war."  Then  his  heart  grew  to 
his  comrades,  his  general,  and  his  country  ;  and 
as  the  trees,  swept  by  the  wintry  winds,  moaned 
around  him,  the  soldier  slept  and  dreamed,  and 
dreamed  of  home,  sweet  home. 

Those  whose  knowledge  of  war  and  its  ef 
fects  on  the  character  of  the  soldier  was  gleaned 
from  the  history  of  the  wars  of  Europe  and  of 
ancient  times,  greatly  dreaded  the  demoraliza- 


206  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

tion  which  they  supposed  would  result  from  the 
Confederate  war  for  independence,  and  their 
solicitude  was  directed  mainly  towards  the 
young  men  of  Virginia  and  the  South  who  were 
to  compose  the  armies  of  the  Confederate 
States.  It  was  feared  by  many  that  the  biv 
ouac,  the  camp-fires,  and  the  march  would  ac 
custom  the  ears  of  their  bright  and  innocent 
boys  to  obscepity,  oaths,  and  blasphemy,  and 
forever  destroy  that  purity  of  mind  and  soul 
which  was  their  priceless  possession  when  they 
bid  farewell  to  home  and  mother.  Some  feared 
the  destruction  of  the  battle  -  field ;  the  wiser 
feared  hardship  and  disease  ;  and  others,  more 
than  all,  the  destruction  of  morals  and  every 
thing  good  and  pure  in  character.  That  the 
fears  of  the  last  named  were  realized  in  some 
cases  cannot  be  denied ;  but  that  the  general 
result  was  demoralization  can  be  denied,  and 
the  contrary  demonstrated. 

Let  us  consider  the  effect  of  camp-life  upon  a 
pure  and  noble  boy  ;  and  to  make  the  picture 
complete,  let  us  go  to  his  home  and  witness  the 
parting.  The  boy  is  clothed  as  a  soldier.  His 
pockets  and  his  haversack  are  stored  with  lit 
tle  conveniences  made  by  the  loving  hands  of 
mother,  sister,  and  sweetheart,  and  the  sad  yet 
proud  hour  has  arrived.  Sisters,  smiling  through 
their  tears,  filled  with  commingled  pride  and 


CAMP-FIRES   OF    THE   BOYS    IN    GRAY.         207 

sorrow,  kiss  and  embrace  their  great  hero.  The 
mother,  with  calm  heroism  suppressing  her  ten 
der  maternal  grief,  impresses  upon  his  lips  a 
fervent,  never-to-be-forgotten  kiss,  presses  him 
to  her  heart,  and  resigns  him  to  God,  his  coun 
try,  and  his  honor.  The  father,  last  to  part, 
presses  his  hand,  gazes  with  ineffable  love  into 
his  bright  eyes,  and,  fearing  to  trust  his  feelings 
for  a  more  lengthy  farewell,  says,  "  Good-by, 
my  boy ;  God  bless  you  ;  be  a  man  !  " 

Let  those  scoff  who  will ;  but  let  them  know 
that  such  a  parting  is  itself  a  new  and  wonder 
ful  power,  a  soul-enlarging,  purifying,  and  ele 
vating  power,  worth  the  danger,  toil,  and  suf 
fering  of  the  soldier.  The  sister's  tears,  the 
father's  words,  the  mother's  kiss,  planted  in  the 
memory  of  that  boy,  will  surely  bring  forth 
fruit  beautiful  as  a  mother's  love. 

As  he  journeys  to  the  camp,  how  dear  do  all 
at  home  become !  Oh,  what  holy  tears  he 
sheds  !  His  heart,  how  tender !  Then,  as  he 
nears  the  line,  and  sees  for  the  first  time  the 
realities  of  war,  the  passing  sick  and  weary, 
and  the  wounded  and  bloody  dead,  his  soldier 
spirit  is  born  ;  he  smiles,  his  chest  expands,  his 
eyes  brighten,  his  heart  swells  with  pride.  He 
hurries  on,  and  soon  stands  in  the  magic  circle 
around  the  glowing  fire,  the  admired  and  loved 
pet  of  a  dozen  true  hearts.  Is  he  happy  ?  Aye  ! 


208  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

Never  before  has  he  felt  such  glorious,  swelling, 
panting  joy.  He  's  a  soldier  now  !  He  is  put 
on  guard.  No  longer  the  object  of  care  and  so 
licitude  he  stands  in  the  solitude  of  the  night, 
himself  a  guardian  of  those  who  sleep.  Cour 
age  is  his  now.  He  feels  he  is  trusted  as  a 
man,  and  is  ready  at  once  nobly  to  perish  in 
the  defense  of  his  comrades. 

He  marches.  Dare  he  murmur  or  complain? 
No  ;  the  eyes  of  all  are  upon  him,  and  endur 
ance  grows  silently,  till  pain  and  weariness  are 
familiar,  and  cheerfully  borne.  At  home  he 
would  be  pitied  and  petted  ;  but  now  he  must 
endure,  or  have  the  contempt  of  the  strong 
spirits  around  him. 

He  is  hungry,  —  so  are  others  ;  and  he  must 
not  only  bear  the  privation,  but  he  must  divide 
his  pitiful  meal,  when  he  gets  it,  with  his  com 
rades;  and  so  generosity  strikes  down  selfish 
ness.  In  a  thousand  ways  he  is  tried,  and  that 
by  sharp  critics.  His  smallest  faults  are  nec 
essarily  apparent,  for,  in  the  varying  conditions 
of  the  soldier,  every  quality  is  put  to  the  test. 
If  he  shows  the  least  cowardice  he  is  undone. 
His  courage  must  never  fail.  He  must  be  manly 
and  independent,  or  he  will  be  told  he  's  a  baby, 
ridiculed,  teased,  and  despised.  When  war 
assumes  her  serious  dress,  he  sees  the  helpless 
ness  of  women  and  children,  he  hears  their  pit- 


CAMP-FIRES   OF   THE   BOYS   IN   GRAY.         209 

eons  appeals,  and  chivalry  burns  him,  till  he 
does  his  utmost  of  sacrifice  and  effort  to  protect, 
and  comfort,  and  cheer  them. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  older  men 
in  the  army  encouraged  vulgarity  and  obscenity 
in  the  young  recruit ;  for  even  those  who  them 
selves  indulged  in  these  would  frown  on  the  first 
show  of  them  in  a  boy,  and  without  hesitation 
put  him  down  mercilessly.  No  parent  could 
watch  a  boy  as  closely  as  his  mess-mates  did 
and  could,  because  they  saw  him  at  all  hours  of 
the  day  and  night,  dependent  on  himself  alone, 
and  were  merciless  critics,  who  demanded  more 
of  their  protege  than  they  were  willing  to  sub 
mit  to  themselves. 

The  young  soldier's  piety  had  to  perish  ig- 
nominiously,  or  else  assume  a  boldness  and 
strength  which  nothing  else  could  so  well  im 
part  as  the  temptations,  sneers,  and  dangers  of 
the  army.  Religion  had  to  be  bold,  practical, 
and  courageous,  or  die. 

In  the  army  the  young  man  learned  to  value 
men  for  what  they  were,  and  not  on  account 
of  education,  wealth,  or  station  ;  and  so  his  at 
tachments,  when  formed,  were  sincere  and  dur 
able,  and  he  learned  what  constitutes  a  man 
and  a  desirable  and  reliable  friend.  The  stern 
demands  upon  the  boy,  and  the  unrelenting 
criticisms  of  the  mess,  soon  bring  to  mind  the 


210  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

gentle  forbearance,  kind  remonstrance,  and 
loving  counsels  of  parents  and  homefolks ;  and 
while  he  thinks,  he  weeps,  and  loves,  and  rev 
erences,  and  yearns  after  the  things  against 
which  he  once  strove,  and  under  which  he  chafed 
and  complained.  Home,  father,  mother,  sister, 
—  oh,  how  far  away  ;  oh,  how  dear  !  Himself, 
how  contemptible,  ever  to  have  felt  cold  and 
indifferent  to  such  love  !  Then,  how  vividly  he 
recalls  the  warm  pressure  of  his  mother's  lips 
on  the  forehead  of  her  boy !  How  he  loves  his 
mother !  See  him  as  he  fills  his  pipe  from  the 
silk-embroidered  bag.  There  is  his  name  em 
broidered  carefully,  beautifully,  by  his  sister's 
hand.  Does  he  forget  her  ?  Does  he  not  now 
love  her  more  sincerely  and  truly  and  tenderly 
than  ever?  Could  he  love  her  quite  as  much 
had  he  never  parted  ;  never  longed  to  see  her 
and  could  not  ;  never  been  uncertain  if  she  was 
safe ;  never  felt  she  might  be  homeless,  help 
less,  insulted,  a  refugee  from  home?  Can  he 
ever  .now  look  on  a  little  girl  and  not  treat  her 
kindly,  gently,  and  lovingly,  remembering  his 
sister  ?  A  boy  having  ordinary  natural  goodness, 
and  the  home  supports  described,  and  the  con 
stant  watching  of  men,  ready  to  criticise,  could 
but  improve.  The  least  exhibition  of  selfish 
ness,  cowardice,  vulgarity,  dishonesty,  or  mean 
ness  of  any  kind,  brought  down  the  dislike  of 


CAMP-FIRES   OF   THE    BOYS   IN   GRAY.         211 

every  man  upon  him,  and  persistence  in  any  one 
disreputable  practice,  or  habitual  laziness  and 
worth lessness,  resulted  in  complete  ostracism, 
loneliness,  and  misery ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  might,  by  good  behavior  and  genuine 
generosity  and  courage,  secure  unbounded  love 
and  sincere  respect  from  all. 

Visits  home,  after  prolonged  absence  and 
danger,  open  to  the  young  soldier  new  treasures 
—  new,  because,  though  possessed  always,  never 
before  felt  and  realized.  The  affection  once 
seen  only  in  every-day  attention,  as  he  reaches 
home,  breaks  out  in  unrestrained  vehemence. 
The  warm  embrace  of  the  hitherto  dignified 
father,  the  ecstatic  pleasure  beaming  in  the 
mother's  eye,  the  proud  welcome  of  the  sister, 
and  the  wild  enthusiasm  even  of  the  old  black 
mammy,  crowd  on  him  the  knowledge  of  their 
love,  and  make  him  braver,  and  stronger,  and 
nobler.  He  's  a  hero  from  that  hour !  Death 
for  these,  how  easy  ! 

The  dangers  of  the  battle-field,  and  the  de 
mands  upon  his  energy,  strength,  and  courage, 
not  only  strengthen  the  old,  but  almost  create 
new,  faculties  of  mind  and  heart.  The  death, 
sudden  and  terrible,  of  those  dear  to  him,  the 
imperative  necessity  of  standing  to  his  duty 
while  the  wounded  cry  and  groan,  and  while 
his  heart  yearns  after  them  to  help  them,  the 


212  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

terrible  thirst,  hunger,  heat,  and  weariness,  — 
all  these  teach  a  boy  self-denial,  attachment  to 
duty,  the  value  of  peace  and  safety  ;  and,  in 
stead  of  hardening  him,  as  some  suppose  they 
do,  make  him  pity  and  love  even  the  enemy 
of  his  country,  who  bleeds  and  dies  for  his 
country. 

The  acquirement  of  subordination  is  a  use 
ful  one,  and  that  the  soldier  perforce  has  ;  and 
that  not  in  an  abject,  cringing  way,  but  as 
realizing  the  necessity  of  it,  and  seeing  the  re 
sult  of  it  in  the  good  order  and  consequent  ef 
fectiveness  and  success  of  the  army  as  a  whole, 
but  more  particularly  of  his  own  company  and 
detachment.  And  if  the  soldier  rises  to  office, 
the  responsibility  of  command,  attention  to  de 
tail  and  minutiae,  the  critical  eyes  of  his  sub 
ordinates  and  the  demands  of  his  superiors,  all 
withdraw  him  from  the  enticements  of  vice, 
and  mould  him  into  a  solid,  substantial  charac 
ter,  both  capable  and  willing  to  meet  and  over 
come  difficulties. 

The  effect  of  out-door  life  on  the  physical 
constitution  is  undoubtedly  good,  and  as  the 
physical  improves  the  mental  is  improved;  and 
as  the  mind  is  enlightened  the  spirit  is  enno 
bled.  Who  can  calculate  the  benefit  derived 
from  the  contemplation  of  the  beautiful  in  na 
ture,  as  the  soldier  sees  ?  Mountains  and  val- 


CAMP-FIRES    OF    THE    BOYS   IN   GRAY. 

leys,  dreary  wastes  and  verdant  fields,  rivers, 
sequestered  homes,  quiet,  sleepy  villages,  as 
they  lay  in  the  morning  light,  doomed  to  the 
flames  at  evening;  scenes  which  alternately 
stir  and  calm  his  mind,  and  store  it  with  a  pan 
orama  whose  pictures  he  may  pass  before  him 
year  after  year  with  quiet  pleasure.  War  is  hor 
rible,  but  still  it  is  in  a  sense  a  privilege  to  have 
lived  in  time  of  war.  The  emotions  are  never  so 
stirred  as  then.  Imagination  takes  her  highest 
flights,  poetrv  blazes,  song  stirs  the  soul,  and 
every  noble  attribute  is  brought  into  full  play. 

It  does  seem  that  the  production  of  one  Lee 
and  one  Jackson  is  worth  much  blood  and  treas 
ure,  and  the  building  of  a  noble  character  all 
the  toil  and  sacrifice  of  war.  The  camp-fires 
of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  were  not 
places  of  revelry  and  debauchery.  They  often 
exhibited  scenes  of  love  and  humanity,  and  the 
purest  sentiments  and  gentlest  feelings  of  man 
were  there  admired  and  loved,  while  vice  and 
debauch,  in  any  from  highest  to  lowest,  were 
condemned  and  punished  more  severely  than 
they  are  among  those  who  stay  at  home  and 
shirk  the  dangers  and  toils  of  the  soldier's  life. 
Indeed,  the  demoralizing  effects  of  the  late  war 
were  far  more  visible  "  at  home,"  among  the 
skulks  and  bomb-proofs  and  suddenly  diseased, 
"han  in  the  army.  And  the  demoralized  men 


214  SOLDIER    LIFK. 

of  to-day  are  not  those  who  served  in  the  army. 
The  defaulters,  the  renegades,  the  bummers  and 
cheats,  are  the  boys  who  enjoyed  fat  places  and 
salaries  and  easy  comfort ;  while  the  solid,  re 
spected,  and  reliable  men  of  the  community  are 
those  who  did  their  duty  as  soldiers,  and,  hav 
ing  learned  to  suffer  in  war,  have  preferred  to 
labor  and  suffer  and  earn,  rather  than  steal,  in 
peace. 

And,  straiige  to  say,  it  is  not  those  who  suf 
fered  most  and  lost  most,  fought  and  bled,  saw 
friend  after  friend  fall,  wept  the  dead  and 
buried  their  hopes,  —  who  are  now  bitter  and 
dissatisfied,  quarrelsome  and  fretful,  growling 
and  complaining  ;  no,  they  are  the  peaceful, 
submissive,  law-abiding,  order  -  loving,  of  th( 
country,  ready  to  join  hands  with  all  good  men 
in  every  good  work,  and  prove  themselves  as 
brave  and  good  in  peace  as  they  were  stubborn 
and  unconquerable  in  war. 

Many  a  weak,  puny  boy  was  returned  to  hi:* 
parents  a  robust,  healthy,  manly  man.  Many 
a  timid,  helpless  boy  went  home  a  brave,  inde 
pendent  man.  Many  a  wild,  reckless  boy  went 
home  sobered,  serious,  and  trustworthy.  And 
many  whose  career  at  home  was  wicked  and 
blasphemous  went  home  changed  in  heart,  with 
principles  fixed,  to  comfort  and  sustain  the  old 
age  of  those  who  gave  them  to  their  country. 


CAMP-FIRES    OF    THE    BOYS   IN    GRAY.         215 

not  expecting  to  receive  them  again.  Men 
learned  that  life  was  passable  and  enjoyable 
without  a  roof  or  even  a  tent  to  shelter  from  the 
storm  ;  that  cheerfulness  was  compatible  with 
cold  and  hunger  ;  and  that  a  man  without 
money,  food,  or  shelter  need  not  feel  utterly 
hopeless,  but  might,  by  employing  his  wits,  find 
something  to  eat  where  he  never  found  it  be 
fore  ;  and  feel  that,  like  a  terrapin,  he  might 
make  himself  at  home  wherever  he  might  be. 
Men  did  actually  become  as  independent  of  the 
imaginary  "necessities  "  as  the  very  wild  beasts. 
And  can  a  man  learn  all  this  and  not  know 
better  than  another  how  to  economize  what 
he  has,  and  how  to  appreciate  the  numberless 
superfluities  of  life?  Is  he  not  made,  by  the 
knowledge  he  has  of  how  little  he  really  needs, 
more  independent  and  less  liable  to  dishonest 
exertions  to  procure  a  competency  ? 

If  there  were  any  true  men  in  the  South,  any 
brave,  any  noble,  they  were  in  the  army.  If 
there  are  good  and  true  men  in  the  South  now, 
they  wouid  go  into  the  army  for  similar  cause. 
And  to  prove  that  the  army  demoralized,  you 
must  prove  that  the  men  who  came  out  of  it 
are  the  worst  in  the  country  to-day.  Who  will 
try  it  ? 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  religion  flourished  in 
the  army.  So  great  was  the  work  of  the  chap- 


216  SOLDIER   LIFE. 

lains  that  whole  volumes  have  been  written  to 
describe  the  religious  history  of  the  four  years  of 
war.  Officers  who  were  ungodly  men  found 
themselves  restrained  alike  by  the  grandeur  of 
the  piety  of  the  great  chiefs,  and  the  earnestness 
of  the  humble  privates  around  them.  Thou 
sands  embraced  the  Gospel,  and  died  triumph 
ing  over  death.  Instead  of  the  degradation  so 
dreaded,  was  the  strange  ennobling  and  purify 
ing  which  made  men  despise  all  the  things  for 
which  they  ordinarily  strive,  and  glory  in  the 
sternest  hardships,  the  most  bitter  self-denials, 
cruel  suffering,  and  death.  Love  for  home,  kin 
dred,  and  friends,  intensified,  was  denied  the 
gratification  of  its  yearnings,  and  made  the  mo 
tive  for  more  complete  surrender  to  the  stern 
demands  of  duty.  Discipline,  the  cold  master 
of  our  enemies,  never  caught  up  with  the  gal- 
.  lant  devotion  of  our  Christian  soldiers,  and  the 
science  of  war  quailed  before  the  majesty  of  an 
army  singing  hymns. 

Hypocrisy  went  home  to  dwell  with  the  able- 
bodied  skulkers,  being  too  closely  watched  in 
the  army,  and  too  thoroughly  known  to  thrive. 
And  so  the  camp-fire  often  lighted  the  pages  of 
the  best  Book,  while  the  soldier  read  the  orders 
of  the  Captain  of  his  salvation.  And  often  did 
the  songs  of  Zion  ring  out  loud  and  clear  on  the 
cold  night  air,  while  the  muskets  rattled  and 


CAMP-FIRES    OF    THE    BOYS    IN   GRAY.         217 

the  guns  boomed  in  the  distance,  each  intensi 
fying  the  significance  of  the  other,  testing  the 
sincerity  of  the  Christian  while  trying  the  cour 
age  of  the  soldier.  Stripped  of  all  sensual 
allurements,  and  offering  only  self-denial,  pa 
tience,  and  endurance,  the  Gospel  took  hold  of 


the  deepest  and  purest  motives  of  the  soldiers, 
won  them  thoroughly,  and  made  the  army  as 
famous  for  its  forbearance,  temperance,  respect 
for  women  and  children,  sobriety,  honesty,  and 
morality  as  it  was  for  endurance  and  invincible 
courage. 

Never  was  there  an  army  where  feeble  old 


218  SOLDIER    LIKE. 

age  received  such  sympathy,  consideration,  and 
protection.  Women,  deprived  of  their  natural 
protectors,  fled  from  the  advancing  hosts  of  the 
enemy,  and  found  safe  retreat  and  chivalrous 
protection  and  shelter  in  the  lines  of  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia.  Children  played  in  the 
camps,  delighted  to  nestle  in  the  arms  of  the 
roughly-clad  but  tender-hearted  soldiers.  Such 
was  the  behavior  of  the  troops  on  the  campaign 
in  Pennsylvania,  that  the  citizens  of  Gettysburg 
have  expressed  wonder  and  surprise  at  their 
perfect  immunity  from  insult,  violence,  or  even 
intrusion,  when  their  city  was  occupied  by  and 
in  complete  possession  of  the  Boys  in  Gray. 


Should  old  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  never  brought  to  mind? 

Should  old  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  the  days  of  auld  langsyne? 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE   CONFEDERATE   BATTLE- FLAG. 

THIS  banner,  the  witness  and  inspiration  of 
many  victories,  which  was  proudly  borne  on 
every  field  from  Manassas  to  Appomattox,  was 
conceived  on  the  field  of  battle,  lived  on  the 
field  of  battle,  and  on  the  last  fatal  field  ceased 
to  have  place  or  meaning  in  the  world.  But 
the  men  who  followed  it,  and  the  world  which 
watched  its  proud  advance  or  defiant  stand,  see 
in  it  still  the  unstained  banner  of  a  brave  and 
generous  people,  whose  deeds  have  outlived 
their  country,  and  whose  final  defeat  but  added 
lustre  to  their  grandest  victories. 

It  was  not  the  flag  of  the  Confederacy,  but 
simply  the  banner,  the  battle-flag,  of  the  Con 
federate  soldier.  As  such  it  should  not  share 
in  the  condemnation  which  our  cause  received, 
or  suffer  from  its  downfall.  The  whole  world 
can  unite  in  a  chorus  of  praise  to  the  gallantry 
of  the  men  who  followed  where  tin's  banner  led. 

It  was  at  the  battle  of  Manassas,  about  four 
o'clock  of  the  afternoon  of  the  21st  of  July, 
1861,  when  the  fate  of  the  Confederacy  seemed 


220  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

trembling  in  the  balance,  that  General  Beaure- 
gard,  looking  across  the  Warren  ton  turnpike, 
which  passed  through  the  valley  between  the 
position  of  the  Confederates  and  the  elevations 
beyond  occupied  by  the  Federal  line,  saw  a 
body  of  troops  moving  towards  his  left  and  the 
Federal  right.  He  was  greatly  concerned  to 
know,  but  could  not  decide,  what  troops  they 
were,  whether  Federal  or  Confederate.  The 
similarity  of  uniform  and  of  the  colors  carried 
by  the  opposing  armies,  and  the  clouds  of  dust, 
made  it  almost  impossible  to  decide. 

Shortly  before  this  time  General  Beauregard 
had  received  from  the  signal  officer,  Captain 
Alexander,  a  dispatch,  saying  that  from  the 
signal  station  in  the  rear  he  had  sighted  the 
colors  of  this  column,  drooping  and  covered 
with  the  dust  of  journey  ings,  but  could  not  tell 
whether  they  were  the  Stars  and  Stripes  or  the 
Stars  and  Bars.  He  thought,  however,  that 
they  were  probably  Patterson's  troops  arriving 
on  the  field  and  reenforcing  the  enemy. 

General  Beauregard  was  momentarily  ex 
pecting  help  from  the  right,  and  the  uncertainty 
and  anxiety  of  this  hour  amounted  to  anguish. 
Still  the  column  pressed  on.  Calling  a  staff 
officer,  General  Beauregard  instructed  him  to 
go  at  once  to  General  Johnston,  at  the  Lewis 
House,  and  say  that  the  enemy  were  receiving 


THE  CONFEDERATE  BATTLE-FLAG.     221 

heavy  reinforcements,  that  the  troops  on  the 
plateau  were  very  much  scattered,  and  that  he 
would  be  compelled  to  retire  to  the  Lewis  House, 
and  there  re-form,  hoping  that  the  troops  or 
dered  up  from  the  right  would  arrive  in  time  to 
enable  him  to  establish  and  hold  the  new  line. 

Meanwhile,  the  unknown  troops  were  press 
ing  on.  The  day  was  sultry,  and  only  at  long 
intervals  was  there  the  slightest  breeze.  The 
colors  of  the  mysterious  column  hung  drooping 
on  the  staff.  General  Beauregard  tried  again 
and  again  to  decide  what  colors  they  carried. 
He  used  his  glass  repeatedly,  and  handing  it  to 
others  begged  them  to  look,  hoping  that  their 
eyes  might  be  keener  than  his. 

General  Beauregard  was  in  a  state  of  great 
anxiety,  but  finally  determined  to  hold  his 
ground,  relying  on  the  promised  help  from  the 
right ;  knowing  that  if  it  arrived  in  time  victory 
might  be  secured,  but  feeling  also  that  if  the 
mysterious  column  should  be  Federal  troops  the 
day  was  lost. 

Suddenly  a  puff  of  wind  spread  the  colors  to 
the  breeze.  It  was  the  Confederate  flag,  —  the 
Stars  and  Bars  !  It  was  Early  with  the  Twen 
ty-Fourth  Virginia,  the  Seventh  Louisiana,  and 
the  Thirteenth  Mississippi.  The  column  had 
by  this  time  reached  the  extreme  right  of  the 
Federal  lines.  The  moment  the  flag  was  recog 


222  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

nized,  Beau  regard  turned  to  his  staff,  right  and 
left,  saying,  *'  See  that  the  day  is  ours  !  "  and 
ordered  an  immediate  advance.  In  the  mean 
time  Early's  brigade  deployed  into  line  and 
charged  the  enemy's  right ;  Elzey,  also,  clashed 
upon  the  field,  and  in  one  hour  not  an  enemy 
was  to  be  seen  south  of  Bull  Kun. 

While  on  this  field  and  suffering  this  terrible 
anxiety,  General  Beauregard  determined  that 
the  Confederate  soldier  must  have  a  flag  so  dis 
tinct  from  that  of  the  enemy  that  no  doubt 
should  ever  again  endanger  his  cause  on  the 
field  of  battle. 

Soon  after  the  battle  he  entered  into  corre 
spondence  with  Colonel  William  Porcher  Miles, 
who  had  served  on  his  staff  during  the  day, 
with  a  view  to  securing  his  aid  in  the  matter, 
and  proposing  a  blue  field,  red  bars  crossed, 
and  gold  stars. 

They  discussed  the  matter  at  length.  Col 
onel  Miles  thought  it  was  contrary  to  the  law 
of  heraldry  that  the  ground  should  be  blue,  the 
bars  red,  and  the  stars  gold.  lie  proposed  that 
the  ground  should  be  red,  the  bars  blue,  and 
the  stars  white.  General  Beauregard  approved 
the  change,  and  discussed  the  matter  freely 
with  General  Johnston.  Meanwhile  it  became 
known  that  designs  for  a  flag  were  under  dis 
cussion,  and  many  were  sent  in.  One  came 


THE    CONFEDERATE    BATTLE-FLAG.  223 

from  Mississippi ;  one  from  J.  B.  Walton  and 
E.  C.  Hancock,  which  coincided  with  the  design 
of  Colonel  Miles.  The  matter  was  freely  dis 
cussed  at  headquarters,  till,  finally,  when  he 
arrived  at  Fairfax  Court  House,  General  Beau- 
regard  caused  his  draughtsman  (a  German)  to 
make  drawings  of  all  the  various  designs  which 
had  been  submitted.  With  these  designs  be 
fore  them  the  officers  at  headquarters  agreed 
on  the  famous  old  banner,  —  the  red  field,  the 
blue  cross,  and  the  white  stars.  The  flag  was 
then  submitted  to  the  War  Department,  and  was 
approved. 

The  first  flags  sent  to  the  army  were  presented 
to  the  troops  by  General  Beauregard  in  person, 
he  then  expressing  the  hope  and  confidence 
that  they  would  become  the  emblem  of  honor 
and  of  victory. 

The  first  three  flags  received  were  made  from 
"  ladies'  dresses  "  by  the  Misses  Carey,  of  Bal 
timore  and  Alexandria,  at  their  residences  and 
the  residences  of  friends,  as  soon  as  they  could 
get  a  description  of  the  design  adopted.  One 
of  the  Misses  Carey  sent  the  flag  she  made  to 
General  Beauregard.  Her  sister  presented  hers 
to  General  Van  Dorn,  who  was  then  at  Fairfax 
Court  House.  Miss  Constance  Carey,  of  Alex 
andria,  sent  hers  to  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston. 

General  Beauregard  sent  the  flag  he  received 


224  SOLDIER    LIFE. 

at  once  to  New  Orleans  for  safe  keeping.  After 
the  fall  of  New  Orleans,  Mrs.  Beauregard  sent 
the  flag  by  a  Spanish  man-of-war,  then  lying  in 
the  river  opposite  New  Orleans,  to  Cuba,  where 
it  remained  till  the  close  of  the  war.,  when  it 
was  returned  to  General  Beauregard,  who  pre 
sented  it  for  safe  keeping  to  the  Washington 
Artillery,  of  New  Orleans. 

This  much  about  the  battle-flag,  to  accom 
plish,  if  possible,  two  things  :  first,  preserve  the 
little  history  connected  with  the  origin  of  the 
flag ;  and,  second,  place  the  battle  flag  in  a 
place  of  security,  as  it  were,  separated  from 
all  the  political  significance  which  attaches  to 
the  Confederate  flag,  and  depending  for  its  fu 
ture  place  solely  upon  the  deeds  of  the  armies 
which  bore  it,  amid  hardships  untold,  to  many 
victories. 


Supplementary  Readers. 


Progressive  educators  recognize  in  the  use  of  Supplementary 
Readers  a  two-fold  advantage.  In  the  first  place,  the  introduction 
of  an  interesting,  connected  story  into  the  regular  work  of  a  class 
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should  not  be  overlooked.  If  the  book  selected  treats  of  the  career 
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pursue  to  attain  to  eminence.  If  the  story  be  a  life  history  of  some 
noble  man  or  woman,  who  (reared  under  the  same  general  condi 
tions — socially,  politically,  and  morally  as  the  pupil  himself)  stands 
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lating  plain,  then  there  is  awakened  in  the  pupil  a  desire  to  do  like 
wise,  and,  at  the  same  time,  an  inspiration  to  encourage  and  support 
him  in  the  undertaking  Mary  Lynn  Williamson,  a  forcible  and  fas 
cinating  writer  of  child  stories,  has  given  to  the  world,  through  our 
publishing  house,  two  charming  books  which  fulfil  the  above  condi 
tions.  Her  first  book,  "Williamson's  Life  of  General  R.  E.  Lee, 
for  Children,"  is  written  in  easy  words,  and  is  intended  for  pupils  of 
the  Third  Reader  grade.  Her  second  book,  "  Williamson's  Life  of 
General  'Stonewall'  Jackson,  for  Youths,"  is  also  written  in  easy 
words,  and,  being  one  grade  more  difficult  than  the  first  book,  is 
adapted  to  the  ability  of  pupils  of  the  Fourth  Reader  grade.  In 
fact,  however,  all  young  people  above  the  Second  Reader  grade  re 
ceive  much  pleasure  and  profit  from  these  books.  We  have  on  our 
files  a  great  many  testimonials  from  men  and  women  who  say  that 
they  received  a  clearer  and  more  comprehensive  view  of  the  lives 
of  these  two  illustrious  Americans  from  these  two  juvenile  books 
than  they  were  able  to  get  from  more  exhaustive  histories.  In  these 
books  there  has  been  no  attempt  to  discuss  the  causes  which  led  up 
to  the  Civil  War.  The  author  has  contented  herself  with  the 
drawing  of  an  ideal  pen-picture  of  two  heroes,  without  the  sombre 
back-ground  of  ante-bellum  contention.  [See  Advertisement.] 


Supplementary  Reader,  No.  1 

(THIRD  READER  GRADE.) 

LIFE  OF  GENERAL  ROBERT  EDWARD  LEE. 

BY  MARY  LYNN  WILLIAMSON. 

This  charming  little  book  tells  of  the  blamelessness  of  our  hero's 
conduct  in  childhood  and  youth  (thus  refuting  the  misconceived 
impression  by  many  that  early  recklessness  ought  to  be  excused,  if 
it  may  not,  indeed,  be  regarded  as  a  foreshadowing  of  future  energy 
of  character);  of  his  conscientious  industry  in  the  pursuit  of  an 
education;  of  the  noble  and  distinguished  position  maintained  by 
him  as  a  cadet  at  West  Point  Military  Academy,  and  of  the  con 
sistent  integrity  and  self-sacrificing  and  self-forgetful  bravery  which 
were  eminent  in  him  as  a  soldier. 

It  tells,  in  simple  narrative,  of  the  matchless  generalship  of  this 
illustrious  warrior,  who,  supported  by  his  granite  columns,  astonished 
the  civilized  world  with  deeds  of  heroic  valor  and  endurance  against 
multiplying  odds  of  men,  material,  and  resources. 

It  tells  of  the  reciprocated  love  that  flushed  between  general 
and  private  soldier  in  acts  of  tender  sympathy  during  the  hurricane 
of  shot  and  shell,  and  all  the  attendant  horrors  of  a  hard-fought 
battle.  It  tells  of  the  manly  fortitude  and  Chistian  resignation  with 
which  he  accepted  defeat  by  famine,  which  seemed  to  be  the  only 
earthly  power  that  was  able  to  sap  the  strength  and  dampen  the 
ardor  of  his  granite  columns. 

Finally,  it  tells  of  his  useful  life  as  President  of  Washington 
College,  and  of  his  peaceful  death.  But  that  is  not  all  of  General 
Robert  E.  Lee's  earthly  career.  The  influence  of  his  noble  life  is  in 
every  heart  that  understands  him,  and  it  brings  practical  results  to 
maturity  every  day.  The  purpose  of  this  work  is  to  engraft  in  the 
lives  of  our  youth  the  nobility  of  General  Lee's  character,  and  to  place 
him  before  them  as  the  highest  type  of  a  Christian  gentleman.  A 
similar  work  has  never  been  published  Remarkable  as  it  may  seem, 
no  author,  before  Mrs.  Williamson,  ever  thought  it  worth  while  to 
devote  an  entire  book  to  the  life  of  this  American  hero,  when  the 
proposed  work  was  intended  for  children.  Teachers,  for  the  first 
time,  have  the  opportunity  of  placing  in  the  hands  of  their  pupils  a 
true  and  fascinating  narrative  of  the  life  of  one  of  the  greatest  men 
that  ever  lived. 

Magnificently  Illustrated  with  New  and  Original  Drawings. 

Price  (Boards).  25  cents.    Price  ( Cloth  >,  35  cents. 


Supplementary  Reader,  No.  2. 

(FOURTH  READER  GRADE.) 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  "STONEWALL"  JACKSON. 

BY  MARY  LYNN  WILLIAMSON. 

This  fascinating  story  contains  a  sketch  of  Jackson's  ancestry, 
the  varied  experience  of  his  boyhood  days,  his  early  struggles  and 
final  success  at  West  Point  Military  Academy,  his  early  army  life  and 
his  part  in  the  Mexican  War,  his  brilliant  and  meteor-like  career  in 
the  Civil  War,  his  death  at  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  and  the 
monuments,  memorials,  and  medals  in  honor  of  his  imperishable 
name  and  fame. 

Everything  that  is  interesting  in  the  life  of  "Stonewall"  Jack 
son  is  charmingly  told  in  Mrs.  Williamson's  admirable  work.  It  is 
a  simple,  fascinating  story  of  one  of  the  simplest  but  grandest  char 
acters  of  history.  The  man  is  seen — the  living,  breathing  man;  the' 
tender  and  exquisite  phases  of  his  life  appear  even  in  the  carnage 
and  smoke  of  battle.  The  whole  book  is  a  model ;  the  style  is 
chaste,  self-contained,  and  graphic  ;  the  editing  is  well  done.  Al 
though  the  book  is  not  a  military  review,  it  gives  a  vivid  descrip 
tion  of  "  Stonewall"  Jackson's  part  in  the  memorable  struggle,  and 
the  way  in  which  that  part  was  done. 

The  value  of  the  influence  of  "Stonewall  "  Jackson's  life  upon 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  impressionable  youth  cannot  be  well  over 
estimated,  and  parents  and  guardians  can  make  no  mistake  in  pre 
senting  to  their  charges  this  fascinating,  truthful  history  of  one  of 
the  noblest  characters  that  the  scrolls  of  history  unfold  to  the  gaxe 
of  admiring  men. 

"STONEWALL"  JACKSON'S  LIFE  TEACHES— 
That  bodily  infirmities  and  limited  opportunities  need  not  chain  ohe 

to  a  life  of  inaction  and  obscurity. 

That  hardships  in  youth  serve  as  a  stimulus  to  the  studier  virtues. 
That  the  school  of  poverty  is  often  an  excellent  training  school  for 

the  honest-minded,  clean-handed,  ambitious  youth. 
That  perseverance,  coupled  with  a  charitable  regard  for  the  rights 

of  others,  and  a  living  faith  in  the  Ruler  of  all  destinies,  may 

combine  to  lead  one  over  and  through  disheartening  obstructions 

to  success,  full  and  complete. 
That  to  be  truly  great  one  must  be  truly  good. 

Profusely  Illustrated  with  Valuable  Historical  Drawings. 

Price  (Boards),  30  cents.    Price  (Cloth),  40  cents. 


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